A Song of Rings and Swords
by Mononoke-hime x sukai kurora
Summary: Jon Snow died when his men betrayed him, but instead of going to the other side, he is transported to the world of Middle Earth. He meets the Fellowship of the Ring and aids in their quest. An onimous phrophecy has to be fulfilled before the young man can return, alive, to Westeros. Can Callo en Dae Heleg return to the ice and snow?
1. Prologue

_Prologue _

Jon Snow heard his mother's voice. _"You are the blood of the dragon." Dagon… _he thought, falling into the cold abyss. He felt cold, tremors shaking his lithe form. _I thought I was a wolf. _The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch remembered all the times he had watched Eddard Stark speak to his son in a low voice, teaching him the art of leadership. How Jon had wished to be Eddard Stark's trueborn son, to be the leader of the North and the ruler of Winterfell. Jon hadn't realized how much he wanted the dreams to become truth until they had almost become reality._ "When you return, you only need to bend your knee, lay your sword at my feet, and pledge yourself to my service, and you shall rise again as Jon Stark, the Lord of Winterfell."_ _I refused him, _Jon remembered as he continued to fall. He had no idea where he was now. All he remembered were the knives, the knives in the dark, piercing him. His dark red blood had run cold onto the cobblestones as his men wept. _For the Wall, they said. _Jon wondered if he was dead, for he was not aware of the time that had passed since falling into the abyss. Ghost was not with him. Then he remembered his mother's words. Lyanna Stark had come to him when her son was neither living nor dead, and had told him that he must live.

"_You are the blood of the dragon, and you will not die as your father did." _Jon still recalled of how her grey eyes had glistened sadly when she spoke of his father. Her dark hair, so much like Jon's, flew in the wind. _"His name was Rhaegar Targaryen. He was as noble and honorable as my brother, and worthy of the title of king." _Jon Snow remembered how his mother's strong arms embraced him, and her sweet breath tickling his ear. _"Your journey is not done, my son. You will serve another role in another world, becoming bigger than yourself, and finding out who you truly are." _She had stood then and released her hold on her son. _"You are a dragon and wolf, burning red with flame and cold with steel in your heart. Only when you accept yourself as you truly are will you be able to go home." _

Suddenly Jon felt himself falling faster; he squinted his eyes open, and saw molten colors of gold and red flashing by; the coldness from his body was gone. Where was he? A soft sound echoed in his ears then. He couldn't make out the words, and could only observe that the voice was mournful and sad, singing in a tongue that he hadn't heard before. The voice echoed in his ears, soothing him. Jon felt warmth radiate his fingers and felt his soul ease from the pain and sorrow that he had held inside.

_"What is lost may be found again_

_ Deep in the ice and fire and wood_

_ His blood shall shine beneath the darkness_

_ Akin to the dragon kings of old_

_ He shall rise a commander_

_ Battling fears foul and old_

_ Nevermore shall he balk_

_When he returns to the ice and snow."_

Jon felt the whisper in his ear, as calm and cool as summer's grass. It wasn't his mother that spoke. It was someone far older, older than the trees of the North. Jon reached out his hand, but found that his fingers grasped nothing. The words whispered in his ears again, as did the song. Jon closed his eyes…

He opened them slowly. Pale sunlight briefly blinded him. He shielded his gaze from the sun, accustomed to the darkness of the snow and nights of the Night's Watch. His dark grey eyes wandered across the landscape. Green grass and moss surrounded him, and he heard the leaves singing in the wind. He faintly heard birds chirping. _Summer, _Jon thought. There were no clouds in sight. Snow did not cover the ground, and the wind was gentle. _I have missed it. _Jon started to stand, and was astonished when he stood freely without pain or tremors. The wounds that had been given to him by his men had gone. His skin was smooth as silk. _I have scars from other battles still, _the Commander thought as he traced his burned hand and the scar slightly above his left eye. He found that a ring was on his finger. He stared, blinking as the ruby shone red and black. There were markings made into it, carved beautifully. _What does it say? _Jon could not read the words. Longclaw was at his hip, and he fingered the white wolf's head, remembering his dedicated direwolf, Ghost. _Perhaps it is good that he is not here. _Jon hoped that his friend was safe. Footsteps echoed in his ears. Jon sheathed his sword, narrowing his eyes at whoever was approaching. It was a rather large host, judging from the sound of the feet. About ten or so were coming his way. Jon leaned his body against a tree and waited. Although he was concealed by the tree, Jon's concealment did not remain so. The host stopped, and Jon heard the swift sheathed swords coming undone and the soft sound of the arrow being notched.

"May you be friend or foe, you must reveal yourself!" The voice was rich and deep. Jon had a sudden thought of Lord Eddard Stark, his father – no, his uncle. "There is no use hiding," the voice continued, softer now. "I can feel your breath on my face." Jon Snow sharply turned to face the host before him, thinking that he would be facing certain death.


	2. Chapter One

_Chapter One_

Jon Snow faced his challengers and presumably, his death. What he saw, however, was unexpected. Two men with swords faced him. One had dark hair, almost dark as his own, and the other had strawberry blonde. One had blue eyes. The dark haired one had green eyes, contrast with Jon's dark grey. Who was the man who had shouted to him? _"May you be friend or foe, you must reveal yourself!"_ Suddenly the dark haired man lowered his sword, and Jon took this time to observe him more closely. Unruly long hair framed his long solemn face. He was dressed in green in brown, and had a slightly rugged look. The companion beside him had a more refined look. His hair was combed and shone in the sun. Jon observed that the strawberry blonde man also carried a small horn at his belt. He did not lower his sword.

"You are not an orc." It was a different voice that had first spoken to him. It was slightly higher, and was aroused with suspicion. The dark haired companion did not speak. "Although you are clothed in black," he pointed vaguely at Jon's robes of ragged black, "you are not one of the Ringwraiths." The unfamiliar words echoed in Jon's mind. They sounded foreign, as if from another world that he had not known existed._"Your journey is not done, my son. You will serve another role in another world, becoming bigger than yourself, and finding out who you truly are." _Was Jon in another world? Is this what his mother had meant? He stared at the trees and sun ahead of him, the blue sky above him shining brightly. _It is not winter here._

"What is your name, and what allegiance do you serve?" Now the dark haired man spoke. His voice had a slight accent, deep and low at the same time. Jon could see a level of respect in his voice, unlike his companion. However, the question that he was given confused him.

"Allegiance?" Jon repeated. For the first time, he saw that another companion was standing behind the two men. He was fair of face, had golden hair, and held a bow in his hand. Unconsciously Jon fingered Longclaw. The beauty of the face staring back at him reminded him of the Lannisters. _The ones who murdered my – uncle. _

"Aragron," a voice soft as the wind and gentle as the summer's sun echoed in the tense air. The golden haired archer withdrew his arrow and stood beside his dark haired companion. "He is not of this world. He does not know of Middle Earth or of Sauron." At these words, the one known as Aragorn nodded slightly and sheathed his sword.

His strawberry blonde companion was still tense, and barked, "Who are you, who is not of Middle Earth?"

"Give me your names, and I will give you mine," Jon stated calmly. He saw with mild satisfaction that the swordsman flinched.

"My name is Borommir of Gondor," he stated. He sheathed his sword.

"I am Aragorn son of Arathorn." Aragorn's solemn face was now calmer, and Jon saw that although he had a rugged look to him, he was the leader of this fellowship.

The golden haired archer spoke, and Jon detected a hint of an accent in his voice, not unlike Aragorn's. "I am Legolas, an elf of Mirkwood, and the son of Thrandruil."

_What is an elf? _Jon observed that Legolas had pointed ears and lithe hands. Jon's own were covered in calluses and rippled with muscle. _Are these the features of his race? _Somehow the elf's grace reminded him of the red priestess, he could voice his questions, however, Aragorn had a question of his own. "What is your name?" Jon expected to hear the family names of the companions or of their houses, but there was no such thing. Meeting Jon's vacant stare, he said. "Your agreement still hasn't been met."

"I am Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." Realizing that they expected him to say the name of his father, he continued. Jon was about to say that his father was Eddard Stark, but the he remembered the truth._ "You are the blood of the dragon."_ "My father was Rheagar Targaryen," he uttered quietly.

"Jon son of Rheagar," Jon looked up and saw that Aragorn was looking at him with empathy. "You are not of this world an unfamiliar of our customs. You are very young as well." Jon stared at him in surprised bewilderment, and Aragorn gave him a hint of a smile. "I am older than I look, son of Rheagar. Come," he stared, "it is time for you to meet our other companions."

Slowly Jon shadowed Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas to the edge of the forest. Aragorn's voice rang out. "It is safe, Gimli. The hobbits will not be harmed from this young man." The bush beside the tree shook, and a bearded dwarf crawled onto the grass, holding his battle axe afloat as he stood. A shock of auburn hair concealed most of his face, and he was a helmet with horns.

"Of all the places to hide Aragorn, this _bush_ was the worst." He spat the word bush out as if it was carrion. "A dwarf does not hide or conceal himself, especially when there are _things_ scratching him and making him itch." Suddenly the dwarf noticed that Jon was there, and he hefted his axe well above his head.

"You were protecting the hobbits, including the Ring-bearer. That is not hiding." As Aragorn spoke, Jon thought of Tyrion Lannister as he continued to speak with the dwarf Gimli. _"All dwarves may be bastards, but not all bastards may not be dwarves."_ The golden haired dwarf and the auburn haired one appeared to be about the same height. Jon didn't know however, that dwarves were a race. _Tyrion would be welcome here, although it appears that Gimli prefers fighting than reading._ Gimli turned towards him and slightly bowed to him. His former annoyed face was serious.

"I am Gimli son of Glóin, and I am pleased to meet our new companion, Jon son of Rheagar. Welcome to the fellowship." _Fellowship? _Jon's eyes widened at those words. He observed that his companions, including Aragorn, were nodding to Gimli's statement. Before Jon could voice his confusion, his ears heard a sound of quiet steps behind the trees. Out stepped four child-looking humans. Their heights were that of children, although they did not seem to be children. A morose look on their faces told Jon that they were much older; older than even him. Their feet were barefoot and hairy, and Jon noticed that they all had curly hair. One had darker hair than the others, and his entire face was etched in grief, more than his companions.

"They are the hobbits that Gimli was protecting, a race that even people of my world know little. They are also called Halflings." Aragorn explained. Their large eyes stared at Jon with curiosity. "One of them carries the One Ring, which we hope to destroy in Mordor and rid of the evil in our world. That is why we are on this journey."_ The One Ring? _The words seemed to lie heavy on Aragorn's shoulders, and he did not speak for a while. Suddenly the darker haired hobbit stood before Jon and spoke for his companions.

"My name is Frodo son of Drogo, and these are my fellow hobbits Sam, Merry, and Pippin." His voice sounded like the voice of an adult, Jon observed, and seemed sad and cautious. "They are with me on my quest to destroy the One Ring." Frodo's blue eyes met Jon's grey ones as he continued. "We heard from Aragron that you are our new companion, Jon, for you are not of this world…and that Gandalf has fallen in Moria." His voice shook slightly at his fallen companion's name, and the hobbit next to him put his hand on his shoulder. "I am the carrier of the One Ring, the Ring-bearer. Jon, I hope that you will help me complete my quest."

"_Your journey is not done, my son. You will serve another role in another world, becoming bigger than yourself, and finding out who you truly are."_

_Is… this what you meant, Mother?_


	3. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

"…We came to Moria, and that was where Gandalf fell." Jon was silent as Samwise – commonly known as Sam – Gamgee told the missing pieces of their quest. He had been quiet as Sam explained about the origins of the One Ring, made in Mordor by the evil Sauron, and of how it had come into the hands of Frodo Baggins. The seriousness on the hobbit's face had continued as he continued to explain the council that an elf named Elrond had given them. Frodo and his nine companions were to journey to Mordor to destroy the One Ring. An uneasy silence lapsed between the two of them as Sam finished his tale. Jon felt his heart beating rapidly as he thought of the danger of the quest. The thought of being a companion to the Ring-bearer almost stopped his breath. _Hope is only greater than fear, _Jon thought as his grey eyes focused on Frodo. According to Samwise, Frodo had carried the ring for four long months. _He is strong, stronger than anyone I had met before. _The power of the One Ring had corrupted many hearts, but Frodo seemed immune to it. Frodo was ahead of him and Sam, who had walked slowly from the tale of the One Ring. Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas led the company now, and Gimli walked with the hobbits, who were curious and amazed by the land they now walked. Frodo, Jon observed, endured his grief from Gandalf's death in silence.

The fellowship was now beyond the forest near Moria where Jon had mysteriously appeared into their world. The trees were higher in height here, and thinner, although Legolas told them that these trees were far older. There seemed to be something sacred and magical about this place, Jon had thought as he and Sam glanced at the scenery around them. The fellowship was going to Lothlórien. _The only place that I felt this calm was in the godswood, _Jon thought with a sense of peace. He remembered the godswood where the heart tree had been, older than even the trees in this world. A silver pond had surrounded the sacred landscape, a place of reflection and deep thought for Lord Eddard Stark, Jon's uncle. The thought of his maternal uncle caused Jon to stop his observance of the landscape around him. He remembered how he had desperately wanted to prove to Lord Eddard Stark that he was a son worthy of pride and praise – now he knew that Rheagar Targaryen was his true father. The stories about the prince echoed in his mind. Rheagar Targaryen had been a lethal warrior and a scholar. He had a strong sense of justice, and was kind to all beings. Sometimes Lord Eddard Stark would tell Jon and his eldest son, Robb, this "to see the shades of grey." King Robert Baratheon had killed a good man, he had said. Jon remembered how Lady Catelyn Stark's gaze would always become chips of hard ice whenever she gazed at him. She had been upset that her husband's true born sons looked nothing like him, but his bastard was his splitting image. _"Jon, it should have been you."_ Even though now he knew the truth, the words still hurt Jon's heart. _I look like my mother, not my father. Lady Stark, would you accept me as I am now if you also knew the truth?_ But Lady Catelyn Stark was dead, as was her son, Robb Stark. Robb had treated him as a brother, and Jon wondered now how King of the North would treat him now with the truth if he was alive. _I am the blood of the dragon, kin to the people that murdered his father's brother, sister, and father. Would Robb see me as kin, or as another forgotten dragon spawn?_

"What's wrong, Master Jon?" Jon broke from his morbid thoughts, and focused as Sam looked at him with concern. He was now with the other hobbits. Jon smiled at him, not wanting to trouble him with his own personal woes.

"I was thinking of my friend back where I came from," Jon said instead. Sam looked at him in interest. "He was also known as Sam."

"Where is he now?" Sam seemed pleased that another Sam was in the world, albeit in different one.

"Sam is studying to be a measter in the Citadel," Jon answered slowly. He found it hard to speak of Samwell Tarly, who was so much like the Sam before him. "I sent him away because our maester on the Wall was old and about to die." Jon swallowed, remembering Sam's distress. "I lost many of my men on the Wall." Although the hobbits did not understand, they were silent as Jon became lost in his thoughts again. _"The snowflakes are melting in your hair." Those were the last words I said to him. Has he heard the news of the attack on me? Does he forgive me for deceiving him? _Sam's agonized face blurred in his mind. _Will I ever see my Sam again?_ His thoughts were again interrupted by Pippin.

"Where do you come from?"

"A land called Westeros, similar to here, Pippin. Although there are no hobbits, elves, or dwarves, the land is protected by shining warriors known as knights, and men of the Night's Watch." Jon fell silent again as he thought of his black brothers, the very ones who had betrayed him. _For the Wall they said. For the Wall…_ He remembered the sharpness of the blades and of how his wounds had smoked.

"What was your Sam like, Master Jon?" Sam's voice seemed suddenly far away.

"He was kind and gentle. Even though he was a coward, I could always trust him and his intellect."

"Just like you, Master Jon. You're kind and gentle as well." Jon looked deep into Sam's blue eyes. Pity scorched his grey eyes as an expression of misunderstanding crossed the hobbit's innocent face.

"I am not kind, nor gentle, Sam." Jon's voice was toneless. "I have killed many men…and those who I trusted tried to kill me." Silence enveloped them all, and for a moment the only sound was the movement of feet.

Suddenly Gimli eased closer to the small group and whispered, "Stay close, young hobbits and Jon son of Rheagar. They say that a sorceress lives in these woods, an elf witch of terrible power. All that look upon her fall under her spell, and are never seen again." Jon suppressed a frown. From Aragron's information, it was known to him that Gimli had no fondness for elves. He ignored Gimli's statement as the trees glistened around them. It seemed to be a too beautiful place to belong to an elf with malice intent. Suddenly Jon heard his name echoed in the woods. It was feminine, and with shock Jon recognized the voice as the one who had sung to him into Middle Earth. He looked around carelessly as his name continued to be repeated in the wood. Frodo also wavered his head around wildly.

"Mr. Frodo? Master Jon?" Suddenly the voice disappeared when Sam called out to them, and both of them were brought back into reality.

"Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily," Gimli snarled with his eyes narrowed. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox." Gimli found himself aimed with arrowheads a moment later. Legolas only had his weapon ready, the only one who was not caught off guard. Aragorn raised his hands up in peace.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could shoot him in the dark." An elf stated smugly. Jon noticed that he had white blonde hair, and did not have an arrow notched in his bow. Aragorn spoke to him in whispers. Jon now recognized the tongue as Elvish. The tongue seemed as old as the trees and as beautiful as the elves themselves. _How is it that Aragorn can speak it when he is a human? _Jon wondered.

"Aragorn, these woods are perilous! We should go back!"

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood," the elf stated calmly. "You cannot go back. Come. She is waiting."

Then Aragorn signaled the group forward and the companions followed the elves. Soon the group was met by two figures. Jon's focus, however, was on the she-elf in front of him. She had pale blonde hair, even paler than their former guide's, and curled around her face. She was robed in pure white.

"Eight there are here, and yet nine there were set out from Rivendell." The elf beside the enchanting Lady of the Wood was calm as he stood in front of them. "Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him." His question remained unanswered until the she-elf beside him spoke with such despair that Jon shuddered.

"He has fallen into Shadow."All were mesmerized by her voice. "The quest stands upon on the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and you will fail to the ruin of all." Her gaze fell on Boromir, and Jon found that he could not meet her gaze for long. The former proud warrior seemed shaken. "Yet hope remains while the company is true including the newcomer," she continued. "Do not let your heart be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and turmoil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace." Somehow Jon felt his eyes wander to hers, and he felt her speaking to him even though they didn't speak.

_Welcome, Jon Snow of Westeros, one who has the blood of the dragon kings of old!_


	4. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

Jon Snow was silent as he and the fellowship rested in the soothing forest of Lothlórien. Through his grey eyes the leaves shone in the moonlight and the grass whistled. Faintly he heard elves singing, and for a time the young commander was at peace. Then he heard Legolas and Merry speak in hushed voices, not far from where he lied. Jon knew they were talking about Gandalf, for Legolas disappeared into the forest soon after, and Merry listened to the elves' lament somberly without a sound. Jon wondered what Gandalf had been like. He had been deeply revered and respected in Middle Earth, even by the elves. It was Gandalf who had instructed the hobbit Frodo to take the One Ring to Mordor and destroy it. Suddenly the peace that had cocooned Jon evaporated. Gandalf's legacy lived on even after his death, and it reminded Jon of his father – not of the man that he believed to be his father, but of the dragon prince, Rheagar Targaryen. Although Robert Baratheon had been king, there were many people in Westeros who still sung songs about Rheagar Targaryen's heroic, just, and kind deeds. His mother believed that his father would have become a fine king. It made Jon wonder of what kind of king that his father would have been, if he had lived. Galandriel's words whispered in his head. _Welcome, Jon Snow of Westeros, one who has the blood of the dragon kings of old!_ She knew who he was, perhaps better than himself. _My sigil is a dragon, no longer a direwolf, _thought Jon as he stood as his feet walked him across the floor. _It has never been. _

He heard whispers behind him, and saw the forms of Aragorn and Boromir close together. Far away, he saw Boromir's tense face, filled with characteristic grief and worry. Aragorn was by his side, listening, and suddenly their companionship was too much for Jon. He turned away. His footsteps were oddly silent as he continued to move farther and farther away from the two members of his fellowship. Jon and Arya had been like that once. He and Arya had been young, innocent, and ignorant of what was too come. Arya had loved him like a brother, and Jon wondered how she would feel the same if she knew the truth. _"I have no sister."_ Jon hadn't known that he spoke the truth then. He _didn't _have a sister. His mother had borne him while she had bleed to death and as his father's body sunk deeper into the river where he had fallen. His other family had tried to murder him, and now Jon was in a world where he didn't belong. He lost the only love he had. Ygritte was dead. _"You know nothing, Jon Snow."_

_You're right, Ygritte, I know nothing._ Jon's feet stopped moving and the dark haired young man found himself in front of a tree. For a moment he was stunned by its beauty. The bark shone silver from the light from the moon, and the leaves whispered by an unseen wind. The demons in Jon's mind calmed until they were no longer there. He couldn't feel them anymore. "This tree has the power to calm you, as it did for me so long ago." Jon felt a large and warm hand on his shoulder, and looked to see Aragorn across from him. The dark haired man had a nostalgic look on his face. "You are lost just as I was long ago, Jon son of Rheagar. I wasn't much older than you when I found out the truth about my heritage."

"The truth?" Jon echoed. He thought of his own truth, being the only living son of Rheagar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, when all his life he thought that he was the lowly bastard son of his mother's brother. What did he and Aragorn have in common?

"I was two years old when my father was killed by orcs," Aragorn began slowly. "As his father before him. Fearing for my safety, my mother took me to Rivendell, where I was raised." His eyes met Jon's and an understanding appeared in those blue depths. "My mother, whose name was Gilraen, wanted to keep my heritage a secret. Elrond agreed to have me raised in Rivendell as his foster son. My name became _Estel_, meaning hope." A look of sadness appeared on his face, making him look older in Jon's eyes. "As long as I remembered, I knew I was human, and yet I knew nothing about who I truly was. I wasn't truly human and I wasn't truly elven, even as I was treated with kindness. Elrond told me the truth when I turned twenty years old, that my true name was Aragorn son of Arathorn. It was then that I disappeared into the wild and sought to find myself."

Silence enveloped them. Jon didn't know what to say. Aragorn's story echoed in his mind. He had been deceived as well, not knowing who he truly was. If anyone had known the truth, they would have been killed. Jon would have been killed by Robert Baratheon as a babe or as a child, and Aragorn would have died as well. Jon looked into Aragorn's eyes, and saw that the older man understood his inner turmoil.

"You are from another world, Jon son of Rheagar, and I saw your grief when I first met your eyes. Tell me what haunts your mind." Silently, Aragorn withdrew his grip on Jon's shoulder. "You can trust me, my _mellon_."

Jon felt his heartbeat in his ears. For a moment, he felt his eyes sting. Even though he didn't understand the word that Aragorn had uttered, he felt trust. He felt as if he could trust Aragorn with his truth, something that Jon had never experienced before, not even with Sam. _Sam, I'm sorry I lied to you. But I…couldn't trust you with it. _Taking a breath that came in deep from his chest, Jon whispered his story.

"I thought I was the bastard son of Eddard Stark." Saying his uncle's name made Jon's heart clench. "As a bastard in the North, I was known as Snow. Despite this, I was raised with Eddard Stark's children, believing myself to be a direwolf, the sigil of his house. I loved them, Aragorn, and I still do even though I know the truth now. Even though they're all dead, I still love them. My cousins, who I thought were my brothers and sisters, were betrayed, and some of them are now dead. I rose high in the ranks of the Night's Watch, and I tried to untie my men with the wildlings to fight the Others." Bitterness suddenly overcame him, and Jon saw all their faces. The men who had betrayed him. "I was assassinated. I don't even know if I'm alive or dead." Jon met Aragorn's eyes and saw nothing but empathy. "My mother came to me, and told me that I had another role in another world. I had to find myself before I could come back to the ice and wind. She told me that my father was Rheagar Targaryen, the lost dragon prince, the true king of my land. I was his son, and she was my mother." Jon took a deep breath to will the turmoil inside him away, and stared into Aragorn's eyes. "Her name was Lyanna Stark, who was not a whore, not a common. She was a noble, brave and strong. I look like her," Jon whispered more to himself than to Aragorn. "I am not a direwolf as I wanted to be, but a dragon."

Aragorn was silent when Jon finished his tale. His blue eyes told nothing of what he was feeling, but suddenly he crouched down to Jon's height and pressed his lips to his forehead. His lips were cool, and Jon felt a sudden calmness overwhelm him. _"Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo_, Jon son of Rheagar. May you shine in the darkest of shadows." Aragorn stood in moonlight and his eyes saw something that he couldn't see. A faint smile appeared on his face. Jon looked over to his gaze and saw that Galandriel was before them.

"Come," she said softly. Her hair shone silver in the moonlight. "Son of Rheagar, if you wish to know the truth, follow me." Silently she disappeared into the trees, and Jon felt himself moving forward, leaving his new friend behind him.


	5. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

Jon felt his feet leading him to a fountain. It seemed to be made of white marble, with beautiful carvings that rested upon it. The water seemed to be still like the moon above him. Jon looked at Galandriel. She noticed his gaze and gave him a knowing smile. She beckoned him closer with her left arm. _What will I see? _Jon's boots – so used to the ice and snow – echoed hauntingly in the serene surrounding. Galandriel seemed to glide as she picked up a pitcher and dipped it into the water. "What will I see?" Jon finally asked. His heart raced in his ears, although there was no danger present. Galandriel's ice blue eyes found his own grey.

"Frodo was cautious as well," she stated calmly. Jon felt his heart start. Frodo had been with her? Seeing his expression, Galandriel continued in her soothing voice. "He is resting, letting go of the terrors and fears that have tormented him since he obtained the One Ring. I can feel inner strength from him, son of Rheagar, strength I have not seen before. Frodo does not know it yet." The she-elf faced Jon again, and the intensity of her gaze was stunning. "Even the wisest cannot tell what is in the pool. Things that are, things that were, and things that have not yet come to pass." Jon felt himself move forward and stared into the clear water. Wrinkles of sorrow framed his mouth, and his eyes were no longer as bright as they had been. The face that looked back at him looked older than sixteen years. Jon looked older than Sam, his friend who at twenty years had been cast away. "Now, what do you see?"

Jon almost recoiled at the reflection that swam in his eyes. _"Ygritte…"_ He saw her red hair, flaming next to the sun. Her teeth were crooked in a smile, and Jon could feel her breath in his ear. She was not wounded. She did not have a hole in her chest. Ygritte was alive, whole, and well. Fighting back the liquid that was forming in his eyes, Jon heard her call his name. It was almost as if he could hold her again, she felt so _real_. He heard Ygritte call his name again, and his fingers lingered on the pool. It was almost as if he and the wildling woman were making love again. _"Ygritte…"_ he whispered. Then his lover disappeared, and Jon was clothed in darkness. For a moment he was enveloped in silence. Then he heard the screams. High and sharp with agony, they shook Jon to the very core. Through his very eyes, he saw bodies clothed in black bleeding, _screaming _as they died. Cold blue eyes were the last thing Jon's men ever saw. The Others advanced beyond the Wall, killing everyone in their path. Jon saw red, red, and more red. Heads hung on pikes, oozing body fluids as crows feasted on them. He saw Cersei Lannister's head with a scream frozen on her face. Jon saw Arya, his little cousin, fight the Others until her body was bathed in red far away in another world. She died as her father did. Her decapitated head landed beside her skinny body. A shock coursed through him. Jon saw auburn hair flying in the wind. The boy was riding a direwolf, his ten year old face determined. _Bran… _He was fighting the Others as well, protecting two figures with green eyes in a forgotten forest. A giant lay dead before his feet. A howl shuddered through Jon's body, shaking him as his cousin screamed, and then eerily fell silent. _He's dead. _A silver queen had blood flowing from her mouth as she clutched a dead body of a man wearing a measter's robes as his entrails flowed out of him. The Others murdered her too, without losing one of their own from the dragonglass she carried. But still, all was lost. Tremors shook Jon's body as the vision faded. His breaths came in aching gasps. _Sam…_

Suddenly_, _he felt Galandriel probe his mind. _"This will come, Jon Snow, if you fail both worlds." _Jon felt himself fall to the ground, his back crushing against the stone. He didn't feel any pain. The scenes, the blood, the death, echoed in his mind. "No..." he moaned. "No…" As he lied there in inner turmoil, Aragorn's words whispered within him. _"Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo, Jon son of Rheagar. May you shine in the darkest of shadows."_

"What…does that mean?" Jon stood despite the tremors that shook his body. His breathing had calmed, however slightly. He repeated Aragorn's words the best he could to the she-elf. Galandriel stood in front of him when he quieted.

"It means a star shines at the hour of our meeting, _mahtar_. Aragorn son of Arathorn trusts you, although even I have no idea why." Her blue eyes pierced his own. "The man does not trust people openly, and yet, he trusted you from the moment he saw you. Son of Rheagar, your feelings are similar to his own."

She was asking him why he had trusted Aragorn so quickly. "I don't know," Jon said quietly. He could still feel Aragorn's cool lips lingering on his forehead. "There seems to be a bond between us, one that cannot be broken. We…understand each other even though we may not understand ourselves." Galandriel nodded knowingly, curiosity flaming in her eyes.

"I have not met a man like you, Jon son of Rheagar. You are honest, honorable, and brave, something elves do not see in the world of men." Before Jon could reply, Galandriel took his hand in hers. "Aragorn has a destiny just as you do, _Callo en Dae Heleg_. You two are connected by your destines." _What did she call me? _Jon felt Galandriel's hands loosen her grip on his own. "Your name means Hero of the Ice's Shadows. Do you remember when you came into this world, when I sung to you?" Jon nodded, feeling suddenly spellbound. He remembered the voice, sad and mournful of the death that surrounded her that she didn't understand. He never would have guessed that Galandriel was the one who sang to him. _"Your journey is not done, my son. You will serve another role in another world, becoming bigger than yourself, and finding out who you truly are. You are a dragon and wolf, burning red with flame and cold with steel in your heart. Only when you accept yourself as you truly are will you be able to go home." _

_ "What is lost may be found again_

_ Deep in the ice and fire and wood_

_ His blood shall shine beneath the darkness_

_ Akin to the dragon kings of old_

_ He shall rise a commander_

_ Battling fears foul and old_

_ Nevermore shall he balk_

_When he returns to the ice and snow."_

Galandriel crouched down in front of him and sheathed his sword. She murmured elvish words to Longclaw, a haunted look in her eyes. When she finished, she stood and faced him. "This sword will not break, in this world or the other. Never forget the prophecy, Jon son of Rheagar."

"My cousins, are they alive?" Jon looked at her eyes, expecting to see sadness in her eyes, but instead, she took his head in her hands and put her gentle lips into his dark hair.

"What you belive you understand and know is not always the truth. You will meet them in your world, not this one, if you do not fail," she whispered to Jon. "Farwell, _Callo en Dae Heleg_." Then she disappeared into the trees, leaving Jon to ponder what he had learned and what he must do.


	6. Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

Jon Snow remembered Galandriel's words as he and the fellowship drew away from her homeland by boat. He had never seen such a boat before, one that was light-weight and thin. Jon remembered the boat that he had sent Sam on. It had been a bigger and studier boat with sails and a crew. The only masters of these boats were the rowers themselves. It seemed almost as if Galandriel was promising him those words, not just telling him. She seemed to be certain that he would fulfill his destiny and go back to where he came. She even knew that his cousins were alive, something that Jon had not thought possible. Bran and Rickon Stark were thought to be killed by Theon Greyjoy, becoming ghosts of Winterfell. _How had I not known they had been alive and hidden before I was… _He had a sudden memory of talking about his cousin Bran – who was then thought of as a half brother – and felt Sam flinch at the mention of him shortly after becoming Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Jon was certain know that his friend had known something forbidden. Otherwise, his friend would not have been silent. Sam loved Jon like a brother. A part of Jon wondered where Sam was now, and if he had obtained his maester chain yet...and how he would react to his demise. He was certain now that the Wall had fallen despite Galandriel's words. Jon wondered how his friend would react to the prophecy, and to Galandriel's words if he was here with him. _That is how it should be,_ Jon thought while remembering the inquisitive face of his friend. _I should not be in this world, and Sam shouldn't be getting his measter's chain. We should be together, not apart. Although, _Jon thought as he looked forward to see the tall shape of Aragorn paddling in the water. _I do have another friend in this world._

Jon was in between Legolas and Gimli. The unlikely friends were silent, leaving Jon to continue his thoughts. At the corner of his eye, he saw Boromir's tense form with the hobbits Merry and Pippin. The two smaller faces seemed to be distressed as the boat continued swaying forward. Suddenly Gimli's gruff voice interrupted Jon's serene silence. "I will never see the lovely lady again, although her beauty still echoes in my heart." Legolas looked carefully at his friend, and Jon remembered how the dwarf had three hairs of the fair hair of Galandriel now in his possession. Jon vividly remembered of seeing Ygritte in Galandriel's mirror, beautiful with her hair as red as fire, and her eyes alive and at peace. It seemed almost as if she didn't die in Jon's arms. It was now more than a year ago that she died, and Jon had close his eyes to block the sight of her dying and bloodied body.

"Jon?" Legolas' voice echoed in concern, and Jon opened his eyes. The elf was looking at him, and Gimli had his gnarled hand on his shoulder for support.

"I'm alright," Jon said inconvincibly. He tried to shake Ygritte's deathly still body from his mind, but he couldn't. His breathing became rapid as he remembered watching her body burn with flames. Jon hadn't told anyone that he had cried that night, not even to Sam. Then Legolas started to sing.

"_When the cold of winter comes  
Starless night will cover day  
In the veiling of the sun  
We will walk in bitter rain  
But in dreams  
I can hear your name  
And in dreams  
We will meet again  
When the seas and mountains fall  
And we come to end of days  
In the dark I hear a call  
Calling me there  
I will go there  
And back again." _

He breathing had eased when the song had ceased. Jon's beating heart slowed, the elf's angelic tenor still echoing in his ears. It seemed that the song seeped into his body, soothing his mind and heart, numbing the grief inside. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You lost someone you loved," Legolas uttered calmly. Jon felt his heart stricken and felt Gimli's steadfast hand on his shoulder.

"Yes," Jon said. His voice sounded so very far away. "I…lost her." He felt Legolas' gentle eyes on his own. "Her name was Ygritte. She had red hair, and her people said she was kissed by fire. She was supposed to be my enemy, as I was a spy for the Night's Watch. They sent me to find out what her people were planning. " Jon took a deep breath that came deep from his chest. "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with her. I wasn't supposed to make love to her…because I was supposed to kill her. I did all of those things." Those last words escaped in a whisper. Jon closed his eyes to stop the tears from flowing. Somehow his heart ached again as he remembered Ygritte's anger toward his betrayal. "I still ache, remembering her and remembering that I loved her. The song," he added to Legolas, "it was beautiful." The elf nodded, revealing nothing of the confusion in his eyes that Jon saw. Gimli's hand was by the dwarf's side now. The dwarf also seemed somber.

"If you were an elf, you have died of a broken heart," Legolas said without taking his eyes off the river. Her voice seemed to be sad.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

"Elves are naturally immortal, Jon son of Rheagar. My race is thin, tall, and graceful."

"Not to mention beautiful with annoyingly pointy ears," Gimli said with a muted growl.

Legolas looked back at his short friend, amusement glinting in his former somber eyes. "It is true that elves are born with pointed ears and fair, but unlike men and other races of Middle Earth, we are sensitive to the world around us and can die of a broken heart. Your lover died, son of Rheagar. You would have died as well if you were of my people." His words echoed in Jon's ears, making him think of his mother, Lyanna Stark. His father had died months before he was born, and his mother told him that she had died from childbed. But was it really grief that she had died from? A sudden question framed his mind.

"Legolas, you said that your race is naturally immortal." The golden-haired elf looked back at him in curiously. "How old are you exactly?"

"I am nine hundred eighty years old," Legolas said. Seeing Jon's shocked expression, he added, "I am very young in elf years, still considered somewhat like an adolescent, like you." _Nine hundred eighty years old…_ Jon thought numbly. He remembered Measter Aemon, who had been considered ancient with his one hundred two years. Legolas looked no older than himself, albeit with silent wisdom in his gaze when he looked at Jon. _"You are very young as well. I am older than I look, son of Rheagar." _Jon now puzzled Aragorn's statement. How old was the stern warrior, who had a destiny not unlike Jon's.

"How old is Aragorn?"

"He is eighty-seven." Legolas' eyes were on their dark friend, who now appeared to be talking softly to Frodo in their boat. Jon too stared with amazement at the two statues hovering above them. "Although he is not an elf, Aragorn has the blood of the Elendil, who was gifted with a longer life span than men. His descendants have been gifted with that gift ever since."

_And I have blood of the dragon. I wonder… _Jon remembered Measter Aemon, with his wise gaze and gnarled hands. He too had the blood of the dragon. Would that mean that Jon too would live to a ripe old age?

* * *

Jon son of Rheagar and Aragorn son of Arathorn were standing beside each other as their companions dragged the boats unto the shore. The hobbits seemed grateful to be on dry land, and Gimli looked almost comical with part of his beard soaking into the water. Legolas was the only companion who was watching the two men converse quietly, as Boromir was still muttering darkly to himself.

"Galandriel told me that we were connected, Aragorn. She said that we were connected by our destines." Jon paused, aware of the patience and understanding in his older friend's eyes. _He looks no older than my uncle on the day of his death. He was twice Lord Stark's age, and yet I see no grey in his hair or frailness. _"She called me _Callo en Dae Heleg_."

"Hero of Ice's Shadow," Aragorn whispered, glassiness appearing in his eyes, "and Isildur's Heir coming together to battle the darkness of both their worlds." He quieted for a moment, and then his eyes connected with Jon's ring. Its darkness gleamed in the sunlight. "Is that part of the prophecy as well?" Jon had told Aragorn about Galandriel's prophecy.

"I don't know." Jon had completely forgotten about the ring until Aragorn mentioned it. The ruby of red and black conveyed the colors of his father's house, and the script remained elusive to him. It reminded Jon of elvish script. "It could have been my father's," he whispered to himself. Aragorn showed Jon his own ring. A stone of green was beautifully carved into the silver ring. Those rings reminded Jon of the ring that Frodo carried. It was pale gold with no markings or rubies, and yet carried the weight of the world. That ring had belonged to Sauron, who wanted to destroy Middle Earth. How could such a small person bear such a terrible burden? _Frodo truly is…_

Suddenly Merry asked, "Where's Frodo?"

Jon and Aragorn turned. Frodo was gone – as was Boromir.

A stillness overcame the company. It seemed that all seven of them were holding their breath. Then Sam, distressed over his master's disappearance, ran to the direction where Frodo had disappeared to. The others followed, and soon Aragorn and Jon were alone in the clearing. Despair echoed in Aragorn's voice as he spoke. "I trusted Boromir, and now…he has tried to claim the One Ring for himself. He understood the importance of the mission, and now he has fallen into the footsteps of men before him. It makes me wonder if I will follow my ancestor's footsteps."

Jon stood silent as a seed of doubt grew in Aragorn's mind. When his friend didn't move, Jon took his hand in his own and said, "Let's go, _mellon_. There are still people depending on us." Aragorn's eyes met his own, and he understood what Jon was trying to say.

"You truly are a leader, son of Rheagar," he whispered. Then the two friends ran into the fray, hoping to find the fellowship unbroken.


	7. Chapter Six

_Chapter Six_

Jon Snow was running. He and Aragorn had separated ways to find their two missing companions without parting words to each other. Their mission was to find Frodo Baggins and Boromir. So far, Jon had found no sign of them. Now Jon wished he had parted words to his friend. He had no idea what orcs were, the creatures that were pursuing them. Were they like the monsters of his own world, as cold and as pale as ice, with blue haunting eyes, and silent as a shadow? Somehow Jon didn't think so. Galandriel – and the prophecy – had said that Jon would battle fears of old. If Legolas was almost a thousand years old, which was young for an elf according to him, then the orcs must be older, _far _older. As a child, Jon had heard stories about the Others or the White Walkers. They had simply slept for a thousand years. Many thought that they would never return. _"__In that darkness the White Walkers came for the first time. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses, hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds.__" These orcs, _Jon thought, _they have come in a time of darkness too, as have I._

A part of Jon was still shocked when his boots came in contact with the unfrozen ground, hearing leaves rustle as he ran. _It's like this place has never known winter, _Jon thought as he continued to run through the green trees. _I wonder if it ever has. _He jumped over a rock, not halting his speed. He remembered the summers that he had with his maternal family, ignorant of his birthright and being a naïve boy with dreams. Now Jon was in another world, fighting another war which was hopeless as the other war that he had left. The green boy of fourteen had become a man with pain and confusion held inside him. _My mother had said that I will become bigger than myself in another world, as did Galandriel. _Trees continued to blur in his eyes as he continued to run. Jon stopped suddenly, scuffing up dust and leaves at his sudden stop. He was breathing hard. Looking around him, he saw no sign of Frodo or Boromir. An inhumane roar echoed in his ears. Suppressing the urge to cover his ears, Jon held Longclaw's hilt in his hand. His grey eyes narrowed with concentration as the roars grew louder and more numerous. Thunderous movement of feet echoed in his head, and he saw a huge shape – with grey skin, long greasy hair, sharp and knife-like teeth, and wearing armor – carrying a sword, charging toward him. _So…these are orcs. _Three or four more orcs joined the former lone one who was now running towards Jon. _They are definitely not like White Walkers_, Jon thought. He slightly swung his sword as one orc charged at him.

The clang of steel echoed in the Lord Commander's ears. He observed that the sword the orc carried was crudely made, without any markings or jewels. It was not Valyrian Steel. It was dark grey, the same color as the orc's skin. Jon withdrew his sword just as the orc aimed at his chest. Another orc charged from behind, and Jon blocked his sword with his own. Sweat beaded down his forehead. This orc was strong, and Jon almost tumbled when the orc kicked his leg and at the same time aimed the sword at his head. Jon was able to land to his feet as he slightly rose in the air. An angry roar escaped from one of the orcs. It charged. Jon started to parry the blows when there was another roar behind him. An orc was trying to aim his sword to his back. Thinking quickly, Jon ran forward. This time a roar escaped from him as he shattered the orc's sword with his own. The fragments fell onto the ground, falling like grey snowflakes. The other orc continued to charge at Jon, a snarl on the ugly face. Jon avoided the attack, stepping aside, as the orc stuck his sword into the stomach of the other orc. Jon had expected the orc to fall down dead when he saw the sword's point from the orc's body. But it lived, growling at the culprit before him, even as dark black blood continued to leak out._ I guess in some ways they are like the White Walkers, _Jon thought. Using all his strength in his upper arm, Jon beheaded them. Blood showered over him, coating his face and hands. _I cut them easier than I did with Janos Slynt, but somehow their blood is much messier. _He turned to find the lone orc standing before him.

The last orc was easy to kill. Although Jon's face was smeared with slightly more black orc blood, the enemies before him were dead. Jon was startled to find himself aching with exhilaration from the battle. _I've never felt more alive before. I…_enjoyed _it. _He looked down at the three bodies before him. All were decapitated, blood still leaking from their headless bodies. _My uncle didn't like to kill, neither do I…and yet…_ Jon thought of the father he never knew. _Did you feel the same?_ Silently, Jon sheathed Longclaw and ran to find his companions.

* * *

Jon found them by a fallen tree. He saw Gimli and Legolas standing still as Aragorn remained immobile, his face pressed to Boromir's. _Boromir is dead. _The thought gave Jon no comfort. Although the man had been misguided by the One Ring, he had been one of many. He hadn't been the only one who had broken his vows. _I slept with Ygritte and involved my men in a war which we vowed we would not be a part in. We are the same. _It had taken Aragorn it a couple of moments before he stood. His face was grim, and like Jon's, was smeared with blood. He stood in front of Jon and their eyes met. _We need you now more than ever, _they said. Jon nodded.

Jon watched as Boromir's body was swallowed by the waterfall. It seemed to him that the warrior was more serene than he had been in life. He felt a stirring in his heart, his grey eyes remaining on the beautiful blue water even as Legolas spoke.

"Hurry! Sam and Frodo have reached the eastern shore."

Although the elf had good intentions, Jon knew that Frodo's and Sam's fate – once theirs – were no longer in their hands. That is what he had learned with being a leader. He thought of the other Sam, braving his way through the many seas to achieve his maeaster's chain. _I had to let you go too, my friend. _

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn uttered calmly.

"Then it has all been in vain. The fellowship has failed." Gimli said glumly with an eye on the waterfall. Jon broke his gaze from the waterfall and stared at the formerly proud dwarf. He was no longer proud, and spoke with a voice filled with hopelessness. Legolas had uncertainty in his eyes. Jon turned to Aragorn and saw him walk forward to Gimli. Both the golden elf and the dark man followed to where Gimli was standing. Jon felt Aragorn's long left arm on his shoulder.

"Not if we hold true to each other." Looking into their eyes, he said, "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." Aragorn's hold on them vanished as he walked forward past them. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light." He sheathed a small knife underneath his cloak. "Let' s hunt some orc." He disappeared into the forest, confident that his companions and friends would follow him. The three friends looked at each other, comprehending each other's faith in each other. Gimli was the first to leave, eager to follow Aragorn wherever he went – and to hunt some orc. Legolas followed him as well, a small smile playing on his lips. Jon allowed himself a smile too, and echoed his steps to match the nimble elf's. _My journey and destiny has begun. _


	8. Chapter Seven

I have changed the order of events in this chapter from the movie/book to suit the chapter. R and R; tell me if you want Bran Stark or any other Stark siblings to enter the story.

* * *

_Chapter Seven_

Jon Snow was running with the fellowship. He saw Aragorn's tall form ahead of them, leading them to wherever they went. They were going to find the hobbits Merry and Pippin, who had been separated from them and had been taken by the orcs. _"We will not leave Merry and Pippin to torment and death."_ Those were Aragorn's words. Although Jon trusted his friend, he felt a forbidden feeling on the second day that they had pursued the orcs. Something was wrong, though Jon didn't speak a word. Legolas and Gimli were running behind him, the elf several steps ahead of the dwarf. Neither was willing to leave each other behind. _They are unlikely friends, _Jon thought as the second day drew to a close. _Like Sam and I. _He had now matched Aragorn's pace, stepping side by side with him. The sons of Arathorn and Rheagar were silent as they ran together not as companions, but as equals. Aragorn hid his feelings very well, Jon observed. They hadn't stopped running for a day, and yet Aragorn showed no sign of fatigue or weariness. His blue eyes only showed the fiery determination in them. _He can feel it too, _Jon thought as he watched his friend's hope slowly fade from his eyes. _Merry and Pippin… _Jon son of Rheagar couldn't finish his thought.

On the third day of tracking the orcs, Legolas stopped suddenly. The dawn-red sun gleamed in the sky, but the elf was blind to it. He seemed to be seeing something that the others could not see. The two men stopped at their friend's distress. Gimli stopped as well, concern etched in his bearded face when Legolas didn't respond to his name. Aragorn called out as well in Elvish, but the golden elf remained immobile as wind blew through his hair.

"Legolas?" This time Jon called out, and he was surprised when the elf looked at him. It only lasted a moment, but the elf was calm when he spoke.

"A red sun rises, blood has been spilled this night." There was something else lingering under Legolas' soft timber. Grief? Jon wasn't certain as the fellowship ran again as they never had before. He only knew that his feelings of dismay had been heightened when Legolas had said those words. _Whose blood was it? _Jon found himself imaging finding the bodies of Merry and Pippin, mutilated and their still eyes frozen in horror and fear. _That could have happened to them. _Remembering the battles on the Wall, the Lord Commander shuddered inside. _Grown men have died from less ghastly things. _My _men, and they died for a greater cause. They died to protect the Wall and to protect the realm. Merry and Pippin were along for an adventure. They told me when we were in Lothlórien. _Sadness marred Jon's face as he remembered their eager and naïve faces. _They should never have come._

Aragorn stopped as his friend Legolas had before him. He was crouching down onto the grass. Jon was beside him and observed the tracks. They were not made by men or by horses. The orcs' footprints were much larger than any man's and was only slightly smaller than the giants that Jon had seen. The grass was soiled, tinted with mud and black blood. The only thing they had left behind was the leaf of Lorien. Jon absentmindedly fingered his own. It was given to him by Galandriel along with the eight members of the fellowship despite belonging to another world. A green cloak had also been given to them, which Jon wore over his black clothing. A part of him wondered what his men and brothers would think of him now. _They would still think of me as a traitor and a turn-cloak, even more so now. But that doesn't matter, _Jon thought as Aragorn continued to observe the lone brooch he held in his hand. _I am still loyal to them and to the Night's Watch even though their loyalty as died. _The leaf was colored bold green and had two smaller leaves sprouting from the main one. Gold veins traveled along its length.

At last, Aragorn spoke. "Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall."

Legolas crouched down to both men. "They may yet be alive." Under his wise gaze, Jon could tell what Legolas knew what they were thinking of. Even the cloak that blended them in with their surroundings and the leaf of Lorien didn't protect or shield Boromir from death. Silently Aragorn stood, holding one of the hobbit's leaves of Lorien in his hand. "Let us hope that you are right, _mellon_," Aragorn said to Legolas. Then the four companions ran again, hoping to find the two hobbits alive. Eventually they gave themselves a short rest, only to be interrupted by the thundering of hooves. Aragorn ushered Jon to hide under the concealment of the rocks as Legolas and Gimli followed. The host was huge. It seemed to Jon that every able-bodied man was in the host, and he wondered why the riders of Rohan had fled their home._"Rohan, home of the horse-lord," _Aragorn had said when they had seen the barren land of the kingdom_. "There's something strange at work here." _Jon remembered when he and the Night's Watch had had gone beyond the Wall to find that the homes of the wildlings were empty, vacant. Everyone was gone, similar to the kingdom of Rohan. _Are they fleeing from that evil as well? _Aragorn silently withdrew from the rocks and called out to them. Jon narrowed his eyes as the riders of Rohan came to them. _We are four and they have twice the amount of men. If they kill us Aragorn, then Merry and Pippin will be good as dead. _Jon disagreed with Aragorn's decision. They should have concealed themselves until the riders of Rohan had disappeared and continued their search for Merry and Pippin. _Every moment we stand here waiting for them to strike, the hobbits' survival vaporizes. _Jon saw Gimli and Legolas stand beside Aragorn, their trust evident. _He's reckless as I am, _Jon thought as he sheathed his sword when he stood beside his friends. _What are you thinking, Aragorn? _He tried to look at Aragorn, but his friend's face was expressionless. The four companions were now surrounded by spears.

A figure came forward as his companions held their spears steady. He had long brown hair and spoke in a voice of authority. "What business does an elf, two men, and a dwarf have in the Rider-Mark? Speak quickly."

It was Gimli who spoke. "Give me your name, horse master, and I shall give you mine."

The man dismounted. "I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground," he said with mockery. Jon felt a surge of anger at the man's contempt and started to raise his sword. Legolas beat him to it as he drew his bow, aiming at the man's throat.

"You would die before your stroke fell." The son of Thrandruil spoke with a surprising amount of emotion in his usually composed voice, and he didn't lower his bow as the spears now aimed at his head. Gimli, shocked and moved by his friend's actions, stood speechless as Aragorn managed to lower Legolas' bow. He faced the man and said, "I am Aragorn son of Arathron." His eyes found Gimli's. "Gimli son of Glóin, Legolas son of Thrandruil, and," the blue eyes found Jon's, "Jon son of Rheagar, an outsider and from a land known as Westeros." Jon felt the man's eyes on him as Aragorn continued to speak of the fellowship's friendship with Rohan. Then at the mention of their king's name, the man removed his helm and said that their king no longer recognized friends from foes. His men withdrew their spears as he told them that his name was Éomer son of Éomund, and that he and his men had fled Rohan from the evil that lurked from there. Jon's blood froze as Éomer told them that the orcs were slaughtered in the night; they had left none alive. The fellowship was numb with shock as the riders of Rohan withdrew. _Dead, _Jon thought numbly. His eyes saw nothing. _Dead. _Sudden memories of bodies burned before his eyes appeared before his dry eyes. The sharp pain of his men's swords echoed in his mind. _Dead because of misadventure, _the son of Rheagar continued to think as he and his four companions hastily ran to where the orcs' carcasses were burned. _I was too late…for the second time._

There wasn't much they could find or distinguish. Merry and Pippin were dead, as evidence from Gimli's finding. Legolas murmured a faint prayer in Elvish while Gimli wallowed in sorrow. Only Aragorn was moving, and Jon forced himself to follow him despite his desire to mourn the hobbits' meaningless deaths. Aragorn had two bundles of rope in his hand, and glancing closer, Jon could see that they were cut with pieces of bread crumbs on them. A shock coursed through him when he realized the truth.

"They're alive…" he breathed. Aragorn nodded. "Legolas! Gimli!" Both companions raised their heads to the son of Rheagar. Beside him, Aragorn lifted up his findings. Legolas and Gimli came over, curious over what they had found. By the time they assessed their surroundings, hope had been renewed within them.

"I suppose after escaping from the orcs and the slaughter, the hobbits turned their arms into wings," said Legolas, "and flew away singing into the trees." Jon felt himself smiling at the elf's easy words. He turned to find Legolas smiling as well as Aragorn and Gimli.

"If only we had wings," Jon said with a chuckle. "We must find them, with or without the wings. Come," he said, seeing Aragorn's eyes gleam with approval, "we must go!" The fellowship followed the outsider into Fangorn Forest. By the time the four were halfway through the forest their humor had faded. The trees were dark and stood higher than the sky it seemed. Light was dim there and Jon felt his breathing becoming slower and his heart hammering against his chest. _Merry and Pippin must have truly been frightened if they came here, _Jon thought.

"These trees are old, very old," Legolas whispered. His hands vaguely brushed against a tree. "So old I almost feel young again, as I have not felt since I journeyed with you children." Jon remembered his words about his race._ "Elves are naturally immortal, Jon son of Rheagar. My race is thin, tall, and graceful. It is true that elves are born with pointed ears and fair, but unlike men and other races of Middle Earth, we are sensitive to the world around us and can die of a broken heart."_ _If he is young for his race, then I must be an infant in his eyes. My father, even though he passed before my birth, would only be considered a child in his eyes. _

Suddenly Jon felt a sense of forbidding behind him. He turned and saw Aragorn raising his sword. Legolas' swift arm had his bow and arrow ready, and Gimli held his axe. It was a bright light they were facing against. Jon had to squint his eyes to even see, and as the light came closer, the others dropped their weapons from the agonizing burning sensation in their fingers. Jon's weapon was still in his hands and he was able to run forward against the light when he stopped.

"Gandalf…" Aragorn whispered.

In front of Jon was an old man in white carrying a long white staff. A long beard with snow white hair covered most of his face, and his wise eyes looked into Jon's. They seemed even wiser the Measter Aemon's.

_Jon son of Rheagar, Callo en Dae Heleg, descendant of kings and dragons, bringer of ice and fire, you have come in our darkest hour._


	9. Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

Jon stood frozen in front of the figure before him. An old man clothed in pure white with a white beard stood before him. _Jon son of Rheagar, Callo en Dae Heleg, descendant of kings and dragons, bringer of ice and fire, you have come in our darkest hour._ _That's what he said, _Jon thought as he stared into the wise blue eyes of the old man before him. _He knows who I am, and who I am meant to be. His name is Gandalf. _He remembered how the hobbits had spoken highly of the old man and how much Aragorn respected him. Now the wizard was alive again, breathing. _Like me._ Without thinking, Jon sheathed his sword and bowed down to him. A couple moments passed when Aragorn spoke. "Gandalf…" he whispered.

"Gandalf?" The white wizard seemed amused by the sound of his name. "Yes…that is what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey." His eyes looked as if he was remembering a somber past. Jon remained spellbound by the wizard in white. It felt almost as if everything was fine as long as he was there. Jon had never felt this way before with anyone. He remembered Stannis demanding that he bend the knee to him. Jon hadn't felt the reverence that he felt now. This man…this wizard was more than human. He was more than mortal, Jon could sense. Gimli whispered Gandalf's name again, feeling the same as the dark companion before him. "_I _am Gandalf the White," Gandalf continued. He seemed to glow before their eyes. "And I come back to you now – at the turn of the tide." His blue eyes wavered from the entire group to Jon's own. Grey eyes met blue, and Jon knew that Gandalf wasn't only talking about himself. He had been talking about Jon son of Rheagar as well. _That will be your fate as well, Jon son of Rheagar._

The five companions now stood as Gandalf explained to them what had happened to him after he fell. Even though Jon had not been in the fellowship at that time, he still could feel the fears that the companions had faced, from the orcs and the cave troll that had almost taken Frodo's life. His blood ran cold as Gandalf told them about the beast he had fought. _That creature was fouler and older than any orc that that I've ever seen_, Jon thought with a shudder. Gandalf had lived and died three hundred lives of men, he had said. Jon reminisced his meeting with the wizard. They were now at the gates of Rohan. A forbidding feeling stirred in Jon's chest as the companions moved into the kingdom with their horses. _He said that he was sent back. "Until my time here is done," is what he said. _Jon, pensive with thought, was oblivious to the surroundings around him. _Is that what the old gods sent me here to do? My mother said that my time there, in my world, was not done. Does that mean that I'm dead? Does that mean I can only come back, alive as Gandalf had, when I finish the task that has been entrusted to me?_ Jon dismounted from the horse as the company took them to the stables, his thoughts still on his fate. He wondered how much Gandalf knew about him. Jon remembered the words of the prophecy. _I have fulfilled parts of it, battling the foul orcs and becoming a member of the fellowship in their war. I wonder…what awaits me? _Jon's morose thoughts halted when he and the fellowship were stopped at the hall of the king. The guard told them they had to relinquish their weapons from the order of the advisor of the king. Jon suppressed a frown, remembering that in Winterfell his uncle had allowed his guests and advisors to bear arms. He remembered as a child longing to hold a sword, and his uncle had laughed at that, saying that Jon would be a great warrior one day. As he relinquished Longclaw to the guard before him, Jon remembered how it had been given to him as a gift for saving Lord Commander Mormont's life from a White Walker. _We shared the same fate, didn't we? We were betrayed by the very men who we trusted with our lives. _That man had been a father to Jon as well. Rheagar Targaryen was a stranger to him.

Gandalf has said that the king had been manipulated by the powers of the dark wizard Saruman. Jon didn't realize how manipulative the dark wizard could be until he saw the king. The king's white hair was tangled and his hands were gnarled. Although he had not lost his sight, Jon could see that the king was struggling to see them. _He seems to see through us, _Jon thought. The king was bent, crocked, and was silent. Jon focused his attention on the man who was at the king's side. Long dark hair framed his face, and his skin was pale, so pale Jon could see his veins. His eyes spoke nothing but greed and malice. _This is what darkness looks like, _Jon realized. _Disfigured, deceitful, and deadly. _Jon and the fellowship were silent as Gandalf conversed with the broken king. Eventually, the hold on the king had vanquished. The white hair slowly turned dark golden, and his face became young again. He was held firmly in a woman's arms. "I know your face," his hoarse voice whispered. "Éowyn." Jon could see the woman was beautiful. _She looks like winter, with her light skin and white gown, but spring with her golden curls around her. _Although he never knew his mother, Jon was certain that her beauty rivaled Éowyn's. Suddenly the rejuvenated king realized that Gandalf, the wizard who saved him from darkness, was standing before him. Éowyn removed herself from the king's embrace.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." Jon could see a hint of a smile growing of Gandalf's face. The king stood up on his throne again, now rightfully his.

"Dark have been my dreams of late." He looked at his hands, now longer wrinkled and shaking with age. The warrior in Jon knew that the king was searching for his sword.

"Perhaps your fingers would remember their old strength better…if they grasped your sword." The king's sword was eventually brought to him, and he gripped it, hesitating at first. Then Jon saw the king unsheathe his sword. The hilt was shaped in likeness of a heart, and the sword gleamed in the sunlight that now shone through the throne room. The king lowered his sword, renewed strength emerging from him. Jon felt a stare behind his back, and found the woman Éowyn looking at him.

"All hail King Théoden!" The people of Rohan appeared to be relieved that their king was released from Saruman's hold. Everyone, from man, woman, and child, bowed down low. A part of Jon remembered doing this for Robert Baratheon when he had been king, and his brother Stannis Baratheon. _They're dead now, _Jon thought. At the corner of his eye, he saw that even Gandalf was bowing down to the king. But the king was not smiling. Something was wrong. He was looking for someone, barely containing the anxiety on his face. "Where is Théodred?" He whispered. "Where is my son?" No one answered him. Jon felt his heart beating against his chest._ The boy…the prince…he must be dead._ Jon observed the King Théoden realized this as well. His eyes blankly stared at his people, looking more like the king had had been moments before. Jon saw a flash of white appear before his eyes, but Éowyn was not coming to her king. She was coming to him, and a somber expression in her eyes made him wonder what had happened. She pulled his hand whispered, "When I saw you, I knew that he was speaking the truth. He was right. You do look like your father."

Jon looked at Éowyn in bewilderment. "What are you talking about?"

"Your brother," she said. "A boy with dark auburn hair and blue eyes. A cripple," she continued. Jon felt the world spinning around him. "He's waiting for you," the golden haired woman spoke again, but Jon could only hear Galandriel's words. _"__You will meet them in your world, not this one, if you do not fail." __She said that, and yet, why is Bran here in this one? How is he here in Middle Earth? And…why have the old gods sent him to me? He's alive… _Jon thought. _Bran Stark is alive._


	10. Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

Jon felt his feet carrying him to the room where Bran Stark, his thought-dead cousin, was housed. He remembered hearing the news that the heir to the King of the North had been murdered by Theon Greyjoy, his bones burnt black like crow's feathers. Jon had been promoted to Lord Commander when he had finally heard the news that his younger brothers – he had thought then – were killed. Jon remembered the numbness he had felt as he stared at the falling snow. _Snow would be falling on Winterfell now, _he had thought, _burying Bran with it_. There was a time when everyone at Winterfell thought that Bran would die from his fall, but the boy had defied the spirits that surrounded him and lived. Despite himself, Jon was transported to another world as he thought about Bran. He was again fourteen years old, untainted and uncertain of his path. Lady Catelyn Tully's words resurfaced in his mind. _"Jon, it should have been you." It must have hurt to hear that your son had died, and now that he is alive again…you cannot see him. _Like Jon, Bran was an orphan. His mother and father had died. Jon still remembered how he had wanted to fight with the King of the North and of how his brothers had encouraged him to stay. Jon still wasn't certain how he felt when he heard that Robb Stark and Catelyn Tully had been murdered by the Freys, but his thought were on Arya and Sansa…the only true-born Starks left alive albeit lost in their own way. Jon continued reminiscing as his feet carried him forward as Éowyn led the way. Her steps were light and sure, just as his mother's must have been. He thought of his mother, of her dark hair and grey eyes. Lyanna Stark was quite the beauty with fire in her heart, Lord Eddard Stark used to say. She would have carried a sword if their father had allowed it. Jon wondered now how alike his mother and Éowyn were. He hoped that the white lady wouldn't share the same fate.

The door silently opened as Jon walked inside. The dim light seeped through the shaded windows, and Jon squinted to see. A bed made of oak centered the room. Beside it, another smaller bed laid. A white sheet with splatters of blood covered the body beneath it. _It must be Théodred, _Jon thought sadly. Silently, he uncovered the sheet to see the prince's face. Éowyn gasped behind him, but he ignored her protest. The son of King Théoden had dark hair. His eyes were closed, and his skin was pale as snow. He did not yet smell of death. Jon bent down and kissed his cold forehead, just as he had seen Aragorn do with Boromir at his death. "Be at peace, son of Rohan." As he stood and pulled over the white sheet, Jon heard Éowyn speaking to him.

"Théodred was attacked by orcs." Her voice was barely a whisper, but had inner strength. "He tried his best to fulfill his duty with his father under the control of Saruman and his lowly servant." Contempt edged in her voice when she spoke of the wizard who had corrupted the home that she held dear to her heart. "Théodred was doing his duty, just as his father would have wanted. And it killed him." Her grief-filled blue eyes met Jon's. "I was raised with my uncle's son, outsider, and his death is more painful than my own would be." Her fists clenched. "That was where we found the boy, who is from another world like you." Jon looked to her gaze and saw that she was staring at the figure sleeping soundly in the centered bed. Jon edged closer to the form of his cousin. White sheets covered his body, making his auburn hair shine in the light. _Bran must be ten years old now, _Jon thought. The seven year old boy had grown taller, he could see. His auburn hair had grown darker, more red like the sunset than its former shade. Bran Stark slept, oblivious to the two people watching over him. A thin wound stretched from Bran's forehead to his eyebrow; blood had stopped flowing and slowly crusting. As Jon continued to observe his cousin, he realized the direwolf that Bran had kept was gone. _Like me, _Jon thought ruefully. _Ghost was gone from my side when I first appeared in Middle Earth, and I had to survive without him. It seems that Bran will have to survive with direwolf too._ He remembered waking up in the sun and the leaves, without a scratch on him. Jon had been confused in so many ways. His men had betrayed him, and his entire life had been a lie. He had no idea what his purpose was, or what the prophecy whispered in his ears meant. _Now I know so much. I know that I am the son of Rheagar Targaryen, the true heir of the Iron Throne, and I must serve this world before I can set out what I meant to do in mine. _He faced Éowyn.

"My name is Jon son of Rheagar, former Commander of the Night's Watch. The men who served me knew of their duty and sacrifice even as death hasted to meet them. I think Théodred knew the same, Lady Éowyn." He took Éowyn 's hand in his own and continued speaking to her. "Théodred was the descendant of kings, as you are. You both know the love of your people and homeland…and I do not think Théodred know of what he was sacrificing for when he died. Some men that die deserve life, but their sacrifice will never be in vain." Jon felt Éowyn's hand release their hold on him, and the golden haired lady clothed in white didn't say a word as Jon focused his attention on Bran again. The cripple boy was still sleeping, unaware, and Jon faintly heard Éowyn's whisper as she exited the chamber. "Thank you, Lord Jon."

Tully blue eyes opened faintly. Jon felt a smile growing on his face as he heard the soft timber call out his name. "Jon?" Small hands grasped his own callused ones. Instantly Jon was reminded of the time Bran was incapacitated from his fall. Former days of despair etched in his mind, and somehow Jon wondered if Bran was dead like him. If he had died and come into this world, could have Bran been the same? He saw Bran's mouth moving, but he couldn't comprehend what the boy was saying. Jon wondered how his cousin had died. He remembered seeing Bran's death in Galandriel's mirror. Had that nightmare…become reality?

"Don't cry, Jon." It took a moment for Jon to realize that his tears had traveled down to Bran's cheeks. With a shaking hand the sixteen year old touched his face. It was wet with tears. Swollen grey eyes met dry blue. Jon had no reason to be sad or afraid, he saw. "I'm not dead," the boy uttered. "Nor are you," he continued. "The old gods sent us here to understand who we're meant to be." He released his hold on Jon's hand and stared at the dim light. Jon stared at the boy in wonderment. Around three years ago, it had been him who had comforted Bran. Now Bran was the one who comforted him. He saw in the boy's eyes that he was older, sadness and wisdom creating a permanent mark in his former laughing eyes. Jon wondered if Bran had experienced the pain of losing loved ones, hunger, and who you really are. He had. _Winter is coming. Those were his words. Both of us know what they mean now. We have changed…both of us, irreversibly. _

"I left them to die…" Bran murmured. He didn't notice than Jon was silently listening.

Jon had to tell him the truth now about his birthright. "Bran, your father Lord Eddard Stark wasn't my father." He watched as Bran's eyes widened with shock then with confusion. "My father was Rheagar Targaryen, the dead dragon prince, and my mother was your father's sister. Your father was an honorable man to take me in as his bastard son even when he could have left me to die. Even when his honor was tainted. You, his only surviving son and male heir, would have not left your companions to death." _Like me, _Jon thought, but he didn't say a word.

Bran started to speak. His voice was low and quiet as the room continued to be silent around them. "I didn't die when Winterfell was sacked. Somehow Meera, Jojen, Hodor, and I escaped as the only home we knew burned. Ever since my fall, I've been having these dreams. I couldn't understand them, and it wasn't until Jojen came that I understood what I was. I was a green-seer, a person who had prophetic dreams, and a skin-changer, someone who is able to change their form into another being. My guides weren't just my protectors, they were my friends. When I lost them…" Bran lost control for a moment as he clenched the sheets in his fists. "We traveled across the North beyond the Wall. Meera told me stories." His eyes closed to keep the tears at bay. "We eventually met the three-eyed crow. He was actually a green-seer fused in with a tree, and he taught me more about my abilities. Soon I could change into birds, trees, and other animals. But…" Bran's lower lip trembled. "I couldn't save them." Jon was aware of how the ten year old was trying to keep his emotions in check. "During my training, Jojen did die, as he predicted. Meera died defending him and I from the…attacker. I couldn't do anything with my legs, Jon." Jon's heart broke as he saw Bran's eyes were swollen from tears. "Hodor ran away. He was so…frightened. The three-eyed crow said that it was their time to die, but…I don't know if I was meant to live even though they died for me. Summer still lived, but I felt empty. I'm nothing, Jon. _I'm a craven." _His last sentence was like a whisper, barely audible. Tears continued to roll down from his thin sunken cheeks. "I wanted to escape my useless body and I did. Now I'm here, without Summer, without my friends, and without my brother. I wasn't honorable like my father."

All Jon could do was to hold Bran as he sobbed.


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Jon looked back to see Bran riding with the other Rohan children. The child's face was somber and pensive, unlike the other children's laughing and joyful faces. A memory surfaced of a younger Bran. He had been smiling then too. Now that smile had died with his friends who had sacrificed themselves to save him. Jon remembered how the sobs had shook through Bran's small form as he held him. He had seen heartbreaking loss as well. Jon had known what it was like to see someone die for you. In his mind, he could still hear his black brother's words. _"Do not balk."_ Jon had been entrusted with the task to seemingly break his vows and join the wildlings to find out what they were planning. That had cost many lives...too many to count. Bran had been training when an unknown creature had attacked him. He had watched his friends die before his eyes, helpless to do anything. _I know that feeling all too well. That guilt...can destroy you._ Jon had told Bran that he was not a craven, and that their sacrifice would not be in vain for he would become stronger. Jon wondered if Bran would understand what he had said. Would the orphan boy accept himself as Jon was learning to?

He looked back to see the children of Rohan smiling and laughing. They're happy to have their king back, Jon thought to himself. King Théoden had declared that to escape war, the people of Rohan would escape to Helm's Deep. According to Éowyn, Helm's Deep had protected the people of Rohan in the past. Every man, woman, and child was escaping to the ancient fortress. Including us, and Aragorn doesn't approve. Jon looked ahead of him to see his dark friend talking with Gimli and Éowyn. Aragorn wanted to fight to the last man and until blood had been spilt to defend the home of the people who were traveling with them._ "War will come wether we flee or not,"_ he had told Jon. He thought that King Théoden didn't understand that. He does, Jon thought. King Théoden thought he was doing the best for his people - he didn't want harm to come to them. They had stayed loyal to him even as Suraman's poison leaked through his mind and thought of him as their king. He believes that less lives will be lost if we go to Helm's Deep. He wants to protect them from all the pain that will come because they have suffered enough. Jon understood King Théoden and Aragorn. He remembered the bodies of his brothers and men, who had died despite his warnings. There was so much death that time, and my men blamed me for it. They wanted to hide instead of to fight and to alliance with the wildlings. They didn't want death to destroy their ranks, and decided to kill the one person who opposed them. I_ understand why they killed me now. I understand their thoughts. They wanted me to die because they wanted to live. They didn't want to die for something that was much bigger than they were. No sacrifices... J_on vividly remembered the sacrifices his men had made when the Wall had been attacked. So many had been lost that their enemies of their enemies became their friends. He shuddered at the thought of the massacre that had happened when the Wall had been attacked. His men had wanted to prevent that from happening again. King Théoden believed that less people would die in Helm's Deep than in Rohan, and Jon wondered how right the king was._ Sometimes Aragorn,_ Jon thought of his stubborn and brave friend,_ sometimes the sacrifices are too great._

Jon heard Legolas' shout ahead of him. The elf was shouting about enemies coming, and Jon saw shapes running in the distance. He knew now that the shapes were not the grey orcs. Dark brown mixed with dark fur collided with his eyes. As the shapes came closer, Jon saw their yellowed teeth, dripping saliva. Jon heard the king shout for his men to prepare to fight as they all saw orcs riding on the creatures. Jon held Longclaw in his hand. It gleamed in the sunlight, and Jon suddenly felt ready for the enemy that was coming. As the creatures and the orcs assaulted the warriors of Rohan and the fellowship, Jon remembered the less defended of the group. Bran... The women and children were left undefended, including his crippled cousin. Jon ran fast toward the multiple carts, even jumping over the dangerous creatures themselves to reach them. High screams of women and children echoed in his ears as Jon remembered seeing the dead bodies of his men over and over again. Their blood will not be stained on this ground. His heart echoed in his ears as he saw the still form of a woman on the ground, bleeding from a grouosome wound on her neck. No weapon was in her hand. Jon saw the two creatures - one in form of a human, the other in the form of an animal - posing to strike at the cart with small children and women cowering behind them. Jon was behind the orc and its beast when he heard a swift thunk and a scream from the orc. The orc had an arrow notched deep in his chest. Trembling with another arrow notched in the string, was Bran. Jon stared at Bran' s Tully blue eyes and saw nothing but determination in his young eyes. The boy was in front of the children, all younger than him, protecting them. Jon remembered when King Théoden had visited the ten year old boy, kindly telling him that he would be protected as if he was a child of Rohan. The aged king had given Bran a bow and arrow that had belonged to his son, he said. "_I am a ten years old and almost a man grown,"_ Bran had told King Théoden. _"I only want to protect, no matter what pain befalls me. I will be brave this time."_ Jon thought of what Lord Eddard Stark had told his younger son._ He said that the only time a man can be brave is when he's afraid. What do think, Lord Stark? Your son...is not a craven. He truly is a brave young man._

Longclaw gleamed in the air as Jon faced the bleeding orc and its creature. His sword gleamed with blood as the sword eased through the creature's mouth. A gurgling sound emerged from the creature, and the orc was about to aim his crude sword at Jon's head when Bran's arrow collided with the dark grey flesh. The orc and its creature fell dead. Jon leaned down on the ground and cleaned the blood off his sword. The battle was done. The swords and screams were now merely echoes of the past, and Jon faced his cousin as the bodies of orcs and its creatures surrounded them. "Well don, Brandon son of Eddard." He didn't look to see if Bran had responded. He had to find his friends. Jon found them by a cliff. Gimli's auburn hair was matted with blood, but he didn't even complain. Legolas was looking in the distance, clutching something in his hand. They didn't respond when Jon called them. "Where's Aragorn?" The two companions suddenly turned around. As the sight of their grief-stricken faces, Jon felt his entire body go cold. No... He heard Gimli's mouth moving but couldn't hear the words. He felt Legolas' quiet words in his ears as the elf came near him. "Aragorn son of Arathron has passed." Jon saw the pendent in Legolas' hand, a white jewel gleaming white light in the sun. The precious pendent had been given to Aragorn by Arwen, Aragorn's elven lover. No...

Jon thought of all the men and all the family he had lost. This loss shook him to his core. Not even Lord Stark's death or Ygritte's death had rendered him unable to speak. He felt tears welling in his eyes, but he stopped them. T_here is no time for tears. The fellowship...is without a leader now. He shall rise a commander..._

_I have to lead them now._


	12. Chapter Eleven

_Chapter Eleven_

Jon Snow was walking ahead of the fellowship. In another world, he would have been accustomed to this. He had been the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and had directed every movement and decision his men had made. Now in Middle Earth, however, Jon felt himself lost. His mind was lingering in numbness, and a single name echoed in his thoughts. _Aragorn…Aragorn…Aragorn… _Jon was still in shock over his friend's – and leader's – death. The other grieving members of the fellowship had told him that their friend and leader had fallen off a cliff in the chaos of the battle and into the icy and dangerous river. The only reminder of him now was the pendent Aragorn's elven lover had given to him before the man began his quest. Legolas held the pendent beneath his cloak, and Jon wondered if he would ever let it go. _I am their leader now,_ Jon thought as the fellowship and Rohan continued their journey to Helm's Deep. The somber and solemn host reminded him of the time he and his brothers made the journey beyond the Wall, where they searched for the reason why the wildlings were fleeing from their homes and to find more secrets about the enemy – the Others. _When I came back, my brothers thought I had betrayed them and they killed me for it. But my companions will not betray me. I know they won't, for they trusted Aragorn son of Arathorn with every breath they had. _Jon thought of the last thing his friend had told him. _"You are much like me, Jon. That is why Legolas and Gimli will follow you wherever you go."_

Aragorn son of Arathorn was not the only man lost in the battle against the orcs and their minions. Twelve men including a woman had died, and King Théoden told his people that they would have to leave the bodies behind. Jon remembered the woman who had died defending the children. Sansa would have cried from the woman's sacrifice and made songs about the lady who had defended and died for her children and for the other's children. Jon remembered how his cousin would sing songs about knights and red roses in Winterfell ever since she was a child of five. _She had a beautiful voice like her mother's, _Jon remembered. He remembered too how cold their eyes would be when they saw him, the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark. _That's what they thought. That's what we all thought. I wonder…would Sansa and her mother be happier with me being the nephew of their husband and father rather than being his bastard son?_ Jon didn't know, and wondered how much his eldest female cousin had changed since her parents died and the war began. Maybe, no matter who he was, she would accept him. The son of Rheagar thought of Bran, her younger brother. The boy had been brave, not a craven as he feared he would be. Older and lesser men would have left strangers to die in battle, even if they were children. The cripple son of Lord Eddard Stark had redeemed himself by saving and defending the children and women even with his own life at stake. Jon heard whispers that said that his cousin was known as Bran the Brave now from his feat. Jon son of Rheagar heard light footsteps behind him. He turned and found Gimli and Legolas striding to meet him. The two companions walked beside their new leader without any reproach or anger that had echoed in the men who had belonged to Westeros. They walked in easy silence.

* * *

Jon son of Rheagar was amazed by the size of Helm's Deep. The fortress was made out of rock, not stone, and the highest tower's height would not even reach a giant's chest. Jon could see that the walls of stone were thick, and would house as many as a thousand men. _I see why King Théoden chose this place. _He watched as the multiple carts of women and children slide past the four surviving members of the fellowship. Gandalf was nowhere to be seen. He was constantly disappearing and reappearing when he wanted to, and Jon hadn't seen the white wizard since Aragorn had fallen. _This world depends on us, a dwarf, a wizard, an elf, and an outsider…and two hobbits somewhere completing their task. _Jon remembered the time when Lord Commander Mormont asked him if _their _war was more important than the War of the Five Kings. Jon had answered no. _The same applies to here, _Jon realized. _We are all fighting against the darkness, aren't we, Frodo?_ As his thoughts wandered, his footsteps echoed in the cold rocky hallway. He and his companions were sitting far away from the others. Jon wondered if Bran could see Frodo Baggins with Sam, carrying the One Ring to be destroyed. He was a skinchanger, and could even look through the eyes of trees. Jon was about to find the ten year old boy, but was stopped by a sudden touch on his shoulder. He turned, and found himself looking at the face of Legolas. It was now that the former Commander of the Night's Watch realized that Gimli was no longer with them. The elf looked as he had before, clean and free of the mud, dirt, and blood that coated Jon's clothes and face. There was something sad in his eyes that Jon couldn't overlook, however. Jon knew that look. _He has haunted eyes, _Jon thought, remembering the conversations that Lord Eddard Stark had with his wife. _"His eyes are haunted, Ned, from the truth that he will not inherit anything. If he was fostered in Dragonstone, perhaps…" _Until he had joined the Night's Watch, Jon had felt like an outcast and lonely. Now he saw the same eyes looked back at him in another world.

Jon made no movement to comfort his friend. Legolas would talk to him at his own time. Eventually, the elf seemed to relax in the presence of his friend, and said that Gimli wanted to be alone for awhile. In their own way, Legolas continued, they were grieving for Aragorn. He thanked Jon for being their leader after his death, and continued to say that Aragorn trusted him. Then Legolas looked at him in the eyes. It was only when blue eyes met grey did Legolas began talking to him.

"As you know _mellon_, I was born nine hundred eighty years ago to King Thranduil of Mirkwood and his wife Huoriel." Legolas' voice was almost inaudible and Jon had to lean in to listen to him. "I was the youngest child of the beloved king and the most pampered. My oldest brother Sharuil was kind to me, even though he was born centuries before me, and I admired him above all things. I loved my older sister Arllae and my older brother Eithir very much as well. My idyllic life came to an end when I was four years old in human years. My mother was killed by orcs when we were playing in the woods. Creatures had always come to our kingdom long before my oldest brother's time. There were orcs and other ghastly creatures hidden in the dark.

"The elven children, including I, were told not to go into the woods. I hadn't seen the trees and sunlight for a long time, and my mother convinced my father that we would be safe without a warrior with us in the woods. I was happy to be outside and to see the trees and the sky above my head. My mother was happy too, and we played, laughing. Suddenly there was a sense of darkness in the air, and I remembered hearing the heavy footsteps of the orcs as they ran toward us. My mother's long dark hair framed her face as she told me to run and to hide. I couldn't understand at that time, why she was leaving me, but know I understand that she was trying to protect me. As I hid in the lush bushes surrounding me, I saw my mother's death before my eyes. I couldn't scream and I couldn't cry. I saw her blood seep out of her wounds by the crude swords the orcs held. Eventually as she died the orcs fled. The only remnant of their stay was of the deep footprints they left behind and of the she-elf, my mother, lying on the grass. I ran to her, unheeding her former plead, and placed my small hand on her cheek. Blood coated my hands as I desperately tried to convince myself that she was alive, but she was cold. My mother was dead. I was found by father and Sharuil in my mother's arms."

Legolas' voice was void of any emotion. He seemed calm and no tremors shook his voice as he spoke of the tragedy that had come to him. It was as if the sadness had passed, and had been replaced by emptiness. Jon had been absorbed by Legolas' story. He could close his eyes and see the beauty of his mother and of the blood that stained the elven child's fingers. All he could think of saying was this. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Legolas turned to him and gave him a sad smile.

"It happened, Jon son of Rheagar. The pain from seeing my mother die forced me to grow up. I no longer wanted to be spoiled by my family and instead focused on becoming stronger. By the time I was twenty years old in human years my arrows were lethal and knife was fast as light. My brothers, Sharuil and Eithir taught me how to fight and to defend everything I loved." There was a hint of sadness in Legolas' voice as he spoke of his brothers. Jon did not miss it. A world away he remembered speaking to Sam about Bran and Rickon. _The pain was there in my heart. _Legolas took a shallow breath as he began again. "It was before the Council of Elrond when my brother Sharuil died. Along with the other warriors, my brother and I were told by the king to scout for any dark creatures in the forest. It was quiet when we began. The stars were above our heads, and the wind whispered in our ears. The orcs ambushed us. In the chaos of the battle I couldn't see my brother. I felled many orcs, but yet I couldn't save the one person who was important to me. Many died, but Sharuil's death broke me. I remember the blood that coated his face and body. A gruesome wound spread across his chest, soaking the blood onto the grass. I knew that his death was inevitable. I sang him the song that my mother sang to me when I was small as he died. Even as the pain from broken ribs and a broken hand coursed through my body, I held him and sang to him as he did to me when our mother passed. As Sharuil lied there in my arms, I realized that my elder brother was more than a brother to me. He was my mentor and my friend, the one who was always there no matter where he was.

"As the eldest son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, my brother had been the heir to the kingdom. With his death, my father trained his younger son Eithir to become the future king. My motherly sister Arllae was devastated by Sharuil's death. She almost died of a broken heart. Ever since our mother died, she had taken good care of me, her youngest brother. She was also the only one who understood me the most of my siblings. I was able to save her from dying. My presence seemed to calm her, and slowly Arllae began to sing and play her flue again. Before I went to the Council of Elrond, I think she knew I was going to be chosen for the quest to destroy the One Ring. Arllae made me promise her that I would return." Legolas fell silent for a moment, and closed his eyes to control the sadness inside him. "Aragorn's death reminded me of the deaths that I encountered in the past. I know what death is now, and I accept it. But yet I can still feel the ache in my heart from my mother's death and my brother's, and just when I am about to weep, I remember the years I shared with them. It is the times we had together that exist in our hearts, not the time that could have been. That is the ache I have. I know that Aragorn son of Arathorn will always be with me."

As Jon slept beside Bran, he thought of what Legolas had told him. _"It is the times we had together that exist in our hearts, not the time that could have been."_ Legolas had told him the story of how bother his mother Huoriel and his brother Sharuil had died from orcs. _The same as Aragorn, Boromir, and Théodred._ By the story, Legolas was trying to tell Jon that he could live with death if he remembered the times he had with his loved ones, not of what could have been. _I will always remember Aragorn as I will always remember Ygritte, Robb, and my men who died on the Wall. The fellowship is not dead, not even broken. It is surviving, just as Bran and I have. Like we all have… _Silently, Jon son of Rheagar fell asleep.


	13. Chapter Twelve

I am so very sorry about not updating in two weeks. I had to finish my college application and a wedding to go to. I hope this chapter makes up for it. Please read and review.

* * *

_Chapter Twelve_

"What was your dream about?"

Jon carried Bran on his shoulders. It was past first light, causing the cloudless sky to become a soft shade of pink and orange. There was no breeze in the air, leaving Bran's hair dark auburn untangled. The boy of ten had woken up in the middle of the night from a green dream, he said. Jon's sensitive ears had been able to hear his name being called in the dark night, and had asked Bran what was wrong. Now both of them were outside away from eavesdropping ears as the sunrise dawned on them. Bran was rather quiet as Jon continued to carrying him on his shoulders. The boy was surprisingly light, and was still as Jon continued to move slightly away from Helm's Deep. The fortress was supposedly there to save their lives. King Théoden seemed certain of it. Aragorn, Jon's former leader, had disapproved of the tactic and wanted to fight the Orcs in Rohan. _"War will come whether we flee or not."_ But now Aragorn was dead, lost in the many rivers of Middle Earth, and now Jon was in his stead. The sixteen year old remembered of how he had won against the wildlings when their odds seemed not be in the Night Watch's favor. _If gods are good, the same will happen here. _Jon looked up at his dark auburn haired cousin, who was looking at the sun above them. His blue eyes seemed to be far away from where he was, and Jon was reminded of how Legolas' eyes had been the same when he had told the story how his mother and older brother were killed by Orcs. _"__Yet I can still feel the ache in my heart from my mother's death and my brother's, and just when I am about to weep, I remember the years I shared with them."_

_Bran should know these words. His friends' deaths still echoes in his heart as well._

"I know what you're about to say, Jon." Bran's voice was quiet as the wind that now softly blew around them. "I should remember the good times I had with…my friends as their deaths fade with time. But Legolas already told me this." Seeing Jon's questioning eyes, Bran continued. "He told me as I was about to fall asleep, in my head. I don't know how I was able to thank him for the words he taught me, but I was able to."

"You're telepathic?" Jon couldn't keep the awe out of his voice.

"Sometimes." Jon thought he heard a smile in Bran's answer. "My master said that it rarely happens with people who are skinchangers, but it doesn't happen as often as you would think. I just happen to be ones those who can." Bran fell silent suddenly. He continued looking into the distance for some time. Then he began to tell his green dream to Jon. "It was dark at night, darker than black. It was raining, soaking my breeches through. I was sitting one of the stones of the fortress when I heard a great roar. It was a roar that tore through my body, causing shivers to run down my spine, and I was afraid. I tried to run even though I knew I couldn't run." Bran took a deep breath. "I could see the figures suddenly. They were like the creatures you fought against, Jon. Their skin wad horrid grey and wielded crude weapons. I couldn't even speak as their malice reeked from their bodies. The Orcs wanted to destroy us, with their hate. Their numbers were ten thousand strong."

"They were marching to Helm's Deep," Jon thought out loud as Bran quieted. Suddenly in his mind he could see the Orcs marching toward them, calling for the others to destroy them. He saw their swords and hate in their eyes. _The Others are eerily the same. _Jon remembered of how the Others had killed many of the Night's Watch during the time Jon was with the wildlings. _Uncountable brave men had fallen that day. I remember how I had to warn the Night's Watch that day, with only days to spare. _He thought of Bran and his green dream. _That will not happen this time, thanks to a brave young man._

* * *

Jon arrived in King Théoden's chamber when the sun rose. The king had not changed his clothes from the night before, and appeared grim. His eyes were dark with worry. However, the king smiled slightly when he saw Jon and Bran.

"What can I do for you, Jon son of Rheagar, and Brandon son of Eddard?" Ever since the attack on the warriors of Rohan, King Théoden had held both outsiders in high esteem, especially Bran for protecting the children and women. _"You will be a friend to Rohan for your valor, Brandon the Brave, for generations to come."_

"Your Grace," Bran began, "I have not told you everything about myself. In my world, I am known a greenseer, a person who can see the future and powers over nature. I had a green dream last night, and the dream may help the survival of your people." Bran continued to explain what he had told Jon moments ago. The king seemed at loss for words at Bran's power, and he didn't speak for a time after Bran was done.

"You truly are a gift, Brandon son of Eddard," King Théoden whispered. "The gods from your world must have sent you here for a reason. I thank you." The golden king smiled at the boy who was riding on Jon's shoulders, and Jon thought he saw his cousin's face turn as red as his hair. _He's never been thought as useful before, _Jon realized, _because of his legs. _King Théoden was thanking Bran again when the wide oak doors opened. Jon could not believe his eyes.

His dark hair was tangled and damp. Scratches crisscrossed his face and clothes. He seemed fatigued even though he stood before the king. Despite the wounds on his body, his blue eyes shone with fire. Aragorn son of Arathorn was alive and breathing. Jon's breathing almost stopped as he looked at his friend. _I thought of him as dead, _Jon thought numbly. Vividly he remembered the river below where Aragorn had supposedly fallen. The grief that the four members of the fellowship held within them was all for naught.

"Aragorn…" Jon whispered. Suddenly Aragorn seemed to realize that he and King Théoden were not the only ones in the room. Jon's dark friend broke into a wide smile as he walked over to him. They two embraced fiercely as Jon continued relishing Aragorn's familiar scent of trees and sweat.

"You've been taking care of them?" Aragorn whispered. Jon nodded, knowing he was talking about the fellowship. _I haven't realized how much I missed his voice. _"Good." Aragorn smiled at Bran and ruffled his hair before turning to King Théoden.

"A great host is marching here, King Théoden."

"A great host, you say?" The king was not looking at Aragorn as he listened to him. His hands were behind his back. _Aragorn must have seen the Orcs marching to Helm's Deep as well. The king won't be surprised. He knows, thanks to Bran._

"All Isengard is empty," Aragorn continued. King Théoden was calm as Aragorn told him how many were coming.

"How do you know?" Aragorn asked. He sounded astonished that the king knew the information beforehand.

"Brandon son of Eddard had a vision just before you arrived." Jon felt Aragorn's eyes on Bran as King Théoden explained of what the cripple boy had seen. "He said that they will come here at nightfall, which were exactly your words, Aragorn son of Arathorn."

"I only see this kind of power from the elves," Aragorn breathed. He seemed truly awed by Bran's powers. "You are the first human that I've seen who can see prophetic dreams. Elven blood must flow in your veins, son of Eddard. We are in your debt once again." Bran managed a small smile.

"Jon son of Rheagar." Jon turned to find Gandalf standing behind him. The white wizard beckoned the young man with his finger. Reluctantly, Jon followed him. The other members of the fellowship were overjoyed to see Aragorn alive and well. He was the leader of their group again, and Jon had wanted to spend as much time with the older man. The three members of the fellowship were now following King Théoden outside, leaving Jon behind.

"You will not be able to return until you fall, _Callo en Dae Heleg_." _That name again. Hero of the Ice's Shadows. _Jon turned to find the white wizard's eyes solely on him. Confusion echoed in his mind. What did Gandalf mean?

"What do you mean?" Against his will, Jon's heartbeat thundered in his ears.

"In order to return to the ice and snow, you must die." The wizard did not pause even though Jon took a sharp intake of breath. "That is the only way you can return, alive, to your world." Suddenly the pain from the wounds that had killed him echoed in his mind. _"For the Wall…" _ _I have to die again in order to save my world._

"Bran…?" Jon whispered. He was unable to finish his sentence of the boy who was currently in Éowyn's care. Gandalf nodded.

"Brandon son of Eddard must die as well." There was no sound in the hall although Jon's heartbeat echoed in his ears. He remembered how he had seen Bran before he had left to the Wall. His seven year old cousin had looked dead then. _We must die in order to live again._

"I cannot tell you how you both will die, only that it will come soon."

"What is Bran's fate? Why does he have those powers? Is there a reason?" Gandalf shook his head at Jon's questions.

"The boy known as Bran Stark in your world will become vital in your war. He is growing stronger day by day, moment by moment. You know of what I speak. Even though Bran Stark does not have eleven blood flowing through his veins, he will become more powerful than the three eyed crow." Gandalf ignored Jon's questioning gaze and placed his hand on his own. "Your father wore this ring, Jon Snow."

"Do you know what it says?" Jon's mouth became dry as Gandalf continued observing the ring's writing on his finger.

"It says _bringer of light and enemy of darkness_." Jon saw Gandalf's wise eyes met his own sobered grey. "That rings speaks the truth. Your father was the bringer of light, as you are, my boy. You and Rheagar Targaryen will share the same fate."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_Chapter Thirteen_

It was raining. The rain pelted down on them. No one seemed to notice. The ones who stood defending Helm's Deep had more dire thoughts. The orcs were coming. _"It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of men." _Aragorn had said those words to the king. Like Bran, Aragorn had seen the orcs marching to Helm's Deep. Now the fate of the women, children, and old were in their hands. Jon son of Rheagar stood near his companions. His dark hair was plastered against his forehead, dripping the water into his eyes. His grey eyes were as dark as the clouds above him, and he fingered his father's ring. Jon's fingers now recognized the writing. High Valyrian, the language of the Free Cities. Jon wondered how Gandalf had known the language. _The wizard is more of a mystery every time I am with him. There are so many things that I want to know that he won't tell me. Such as…_ Gandalf's ominous words echoed in his mind. _"You will not be able to return until you fall, _Callo en Dae Heleg_. In order to return to the ice and snow, you must die. You and Rheagar Targaryen will share the same fate."_

_My mother told me that my journey was not done. She told me that I wouldn't share the same fate as the man she loved. _Jon remembered the beautiful dark haired woman who had given birth to him. Thinking about her reminded him of his cousin, Arya. Despite himself, he wondered where the girl was now. She was not in Westeros, he was certain of that. Where was she, then? Was she thinking about him now as he was thinking about her? _I have to die again in order to go back to her, to Ghost, and to the Night's Watch, _he thought. _Bran shares the same fate. _Jon gripped his sword by his side, a sudden determination flowing through his veins. He remembered his other death, with no one there by his side. _Even if I die, tonight, I will die with my friends by my side._ Gimli's voice broke through Jon's grim thoughts. He looked down to see Gimli struggling to stretch himself so he could see beyond the wall. He looked comical from jumping up and down to see what was beyond the wall. Jon cracked a smile. "What are you smiling at?" Gimli growled. His blue eyes – almost hooded from his soaked auburn hair – gleamed good-naturedly. The dwarf tried in vain again. "You couldn't have picked a better spot," Gimli said huffily to Legolas. At last he settled in defeat. "What's happening out there?"

"Shall I describe it to you?"

"Hmm?" Gimli turned to Legolas. At the corner of his eye, Jon saw Legolas crack a smile too.

"Or would you like me to find you a box?" Gimli roared with laughter. Jon felt himself bubbling with laughter as well. The sound, so vacant in the days past, was music to Jon's ears. It felt good to laugh again with his men. _My men,_ Jon thought. He had never thought of Gimli or Legolas in that way before. It was the first time that Jon he thought his friends that way. In a sense, perhaps he still thought of the men of the Night's Watch as his men, even though they had betrayed him. _I guess they'll never leave that space in my heart. _He looked at Gimli and Legolas at the corner of his eye. _Yes, _he thought. _They are my men. _Jon didn't think of Aragorn or Gandalf as his men. His respect for them had caused a line between them. Aragorn reminded him of the family he had lost. Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Commander Mormont, and Samwell Tarly all lived on in Aragorn. The old measters Luwin and Aemon lived on in Gandalf. _I never left that world, did I?_ He spied Aragorn not far away from him. Suddenly he saw Aragorn coming toward them. Like Jon, the dark haired man was grim and silent. His eyes were only on what was ahead of him.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas whispered.

"Let's hope they last the night…" Gimli whispered darkly.

Aragorn ignored them both. He leaned towards Jon and whispered, "Take care of them." Jon nodded. Then Aragorn disappeared.

_My companions, my friends, and my men._

A great roar ahead of him broke his thoughts. It reminded him of the roar that Bran had described. _"It was a roar that tore through my body, causing shivers to run down my spine, and I was afraid. I tried to run even though I knew I couldn't run."_ _This is must have been what he had seen. _There was malice and hatred in that roar. It reminded Jon of the cruel silence of the Others. He drew his sword. The roar continued to echo in his ears long after it had ended. Moment by moment the orcs were coming closer. The morbid marching echoed in his ears. He felt his fingers tingle. He slowed his breathing until he could hear his heartbeat. As quickly as the tense silence had begun, the orcs began their attack.

"_That rings speaks the truth. Your father was the bringer of light, as you are, my boy. You and Rheagar Targaryen will share the same fate."_ Somehow Jon found he wasn't afraid.

* * *

Brandon son of Eddard heard the battle above him. The roars and screams echoed where he was. He heard the whimpers and cries of the women and children. They were defenseless. King Théoden had ordered them to hide there until the battle was done. Bran would have gladly fought. He had seen boys his age and slightly younger join the ranks of the men, but both King Théoden and his cousin Jon had told him otherwise. _"Your place is here," _they had said. Bran wondered if he could have defended the women and children as easily as he did the other time. There were many more people, and this was not a small place to hide. Although the children of Rohan admired him, and each woman was confident that he would keep her children safe, Bran felt anything but brave. He had been trembling in fear when he faced that orc on top of the warg. He had been certain that the orc could scent the odor of his fear. Bran could still feel the salvia of the warg as it had growled at him. Could Bran be Brandon the Brave again? His late father's words echoed in his mind. _"It is the only time a man can be brave."_ Bran's master had said that skinchangers could also have power over nature. Jon had told him that there were fires in the battle. He didn't tell Bran why. _I could stop the rain, _the boy thought. _Perhaps…_ Bran focused his mind on the fire among the fighting men until he could actually see the flames. They were burning bright, warm and radiating with boiling heat. Bran focused even more, and saw many swords in his path. He saw Jon's sword, Longclaw, singing in the darkness. Dark orc blood smeared the hilt and the blade as Jon continued to fight the orcs with his friends. Bran focused the fire and pushed it forward...

* * *

Jon continued to fight. As the orcs became more numerous as the climbed up the ladders, Gimli had come up with a game. A killing game to be exact. _"Whoever kills the most orcs wins." _Jon hadn't missed the eager glint in the dwarf's eyes. Secretly too, Jon was looking forward to it. Now as the bodies of more orcs surrounded him, Jon counted that he had killed fourteen. Over the roar of the battle, he heard Gimli's ecstatic voice.

"Legolas!" The golden-haired elf turned. "Two already!"

"I'm on seventeen!"

"I'm on fourteen, Gimli!" Jon added smugly.

The dwarf appeared crestfallen for a moment before he replied hotly, "I'll have no pointy-eared elf outscoring me!" He glared at Jon. "Nor a dark haired and skinny dragon boy!"

As the three continued their competition, Jon noticed something different about his sword that he hadn't noticed moments ago. _Fire _coated his sword. The orcs screamed in pain, not just from the sharp Valyrian steel, but also from the fierce fire that entered their wounds. The fire continued to blaze even as the thunder and rain continued. It seemed almost magical, that fire. A new strength emerged from him. Jon felt a speed that he hadn't felt before. His blows were true. They didn't miss a mark. The flames glowed red, orange, yellow, and then blue. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins." _Seventeen. _"It shall not end until my death." _Eighteen. _"I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children." _Nineteen._ "I shall wear no crowns and win for glory." _Twenty. _"I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in darkness." _Twenty-one. _"I am the watcher on the walls." _Twenty-two. _"I am the fire that burns against the cold." _Twenty-three. _"The light that brings the dawn, the horns that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realm of men." _Thirty-four. _"I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night, and for all nights to come." The fire that burned on the sword and the fire that burned within Jon only ceased to exist when the battle was over.

* * *

Jon found Gimli and Legolas arguing amongst themselves of who won the competition. The battle was over King Théoden had said, but Gandalf had disagreed. _"The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle Earth has just begun." _Jon had to agree with him. Frodo and Sam had not yet finished their quest. Now, however, Gimli was sitting on the dead body of an orc, disagreeing with his closest friend of who had won the killing contest. Jon cleared his throat. Gimli and Legolas looked as if they had just had noticed him. Or maybe they didn't recognize him. Jon's body was covered in dark orc blood from head to foot. Ash from the fire lingered on his fingertips, and his hair was coated in sweat and grime. "I'm standing on forty-seven, my men," Jon said with a laugh, enjoying the flabbergasted look on Gimli's face. Legolas' face remained unreadable. As he walked away, he heard Gimli's shout ringing in the air. "You must be a breathing fire dragon god with the powers you displayed in battle!" As Jon walked alone in the debris of the bodies of countless men and orcs that had died there, he thought of the world he had left behind. He thought of the snow, the ice, and trees, and the gods. There appeared to be no gods in this world. _If the gods are good, I will be going home soon. I will miss my friends that I have made in Middle Earth, but I miss my friends from my world even more. Sam…Val…Dolorous Edd… _He thought of his family. _Arya…Sansa…Rickon…and Daenerys…I am coming home. _

The sunset shone behind him.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

This chapter explains how Bran and Jon realize who they truly are as well as explaining Bran's significance. The end is neigh!

* * *

_Chapter Fourteen_

Jon and the Fellowship were riding to Isenguard. The battle at Helm's Deep was not yet a day past, but Gandalf had told the Fellowship and King Théoden that their presence was needed at Isengaurd. And so at first light, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Éomer, and Jon followed the white wizard through the Fangorn forest. The trees had changed since Jon had last saw them, he noticed. They seemed more _alive_ with their long thick branches waving in the wind. They were "talking," as Legolas would say. Somehow he could hear them. Jon looked around to find his golden haired friend listening to them with his curious blue eyes watching the trees. Jon wondered if Bran could have heard the trees too if he was here. The boy had been exhausted from his part in the battle. He had been the one who had tamed the fires on Jon's sword Longclaw. A part of Jon still couldn't believe that Bran had the strength to control that fire that had killed so many orcs. Didn't Bran say that he could control nature? _"I played my part,"_ Jon's dark auburn haired cousin had exhaustedly replied to Jon's questions. _"Nothing more, nothing less."_ The boy was now safely under the care of King Théoden, who had taken him in as a surrogate grandson, and made certain that Bran's rest would not be interrupted. _"Brandon son of Eddard told me he wanted to become Brandon the Brave again." _The king's proud words echoed in Jon's mind. _"Although I know nothing of his powers, he has proven himself a worthy warrior of Rohan." _A part of Jon wondered if Bran would have been able to speak to the trees. _"He shall have more power than the three-eyed crow."_

As the trees parted, Jon's eyes were strained from looking at the wreckage for so long. The stones of Isengaurd were torn apart, leaving nothing but rubble. The crude debris had landed in the water. _So much water, _Jon thought. The streams of water seemed to go on for leagues. "What happened here?" he asked. For a moment, no answered him as the five moved farther beyond the wreckage. Jon saw shapes ahead of him. The two shapes seemed small to his young eyes. As he and the group came closer, Jon observed that the figures were sitting on a piece of the wreckage of what remained of Isengaurd. For a moment his heart stopped as he recognized the fair curly hair of the two. He saw the pipes in their mouths, and remembered light and high voices as the two talked, seemingly unaware of them. Jon broke in a smile. His dry lips cracked and his voice was hoarse as he shouted out the hobbits' names.

"Master Jon!" Pippin immediately identified him despite the grime, blood, and perspiration clinging to his black cloak. The hobbit was happy to see him too by the bow he gave the grey eyed warrior. Meanwhile, Merry was welcoming the others to the wreckage of Isengaurd.

"Hobbits," Gandalf muttered irritably. Soon Jon and Aragorn had small hands clutching their waists as Gandalf and the others moved beyond the debris of Isengaurd. Suddenly Jon's horse backed away even as Jon tightened the reins. A giant tree was approaching Gandalf and the others. As the tree came closer, the son of Rheagar realized that it was more human-like than tree. A face carved out of bark and a nose in the shape of a miniature tree rendered Jon speechless. This human-like tree was taller than any of the giants that he had seen. He remembered their big and hulking bodies as they trudged through the snow. The tree seemed to move with grace by comparison. At last it stopped and spoke to Gandalf.

"That's Treebeard," Merry whispered to Jon. Jon flushed, realizing that Merry must have seen his shocked expression. "He's an Ent, one of the oldest." Jon nodded as Treebeard continued to speak to Gandalf. Although the Ent spoke more slowly, Jon could easily understand him. _Unlike with giants, _he thought. He stared at the Ent more closely. Grass and bark covered him like furs, and there seemed to be an aura of mystery about him. Gimli's short-tempered voice interrupted Jon's thoughts. Like most of them, Gimli wanted Saruman dead. Although the stubborn dwarf would never admit, Jon was aware that his friend was exhausted by how his dull eyes stared. _I know that look._ Jon remembered that was how his men looked after the battle against the wildlings. _They would never admit that they were exhausted either._

"No." Gandalf said. "He has no power anymore."

"The filth of Saruman is washing away," Treebeard agreed. At the corner of his eye, Jon saw Pippin jump down into the water and clutch something in his small hands. His eyes glowed as he stared at it. "A palantir," Legolas breathed with a hiss at the sight. Jon suppressed a shudder. There seemed to be darkness oozing from it. He was grateful when Gandalf took the dark object in his robes and hid it away. However, Jon was aware of Pippin's eyes on it as the seven companions rode to the kingdom of Rohan.

* * *

Brandon son of Eddard woke to find King Théoden's place beside him vacant. Éowyn was beside her uncle's place instead. The faired haired woman stroked his cheek. "How are you feeling?" Like King Théoden, Éowyn had affection for Bran. The boy didn't know why. Perhaps it was because he had saved them twice, or maybe it was because Bran had shown that he was as much a warrior as all of them. There was a time when Bran blamed himself for Jojen's, Meera's, and Hodor's deaths. He had thought he couldn't save them because he didn't have the use of his legs. Now Bran realized that he didn't have the strength he had then. It wasn't because he was a cripple. It was because his powers hadn't manifested at that time.

Bran remembered of how shocked Jon was as he told him that he was the one who controlled and tamed the fire. A part of Bran was afraid of the power he now possessed. Would there be a time when he couldn't control it? It seemed to him that King Théoden and Éowyn didn't share his misgivings. As the boy had lied exhausted, almost asleep, among the furs beneath Helm's Deep, he had heard King Théoden talking about him to Jon. _"…He proved himself a worthy warrior of Rohan." _It was then that Bran realized that the king was proud of him. He had seen the shock turning into respect in his cousin's eyes, and had seen the small smiles that Éowyn and the warrior Aragorn had given him. Since his fall, Bran had wanted to be important and useful. Now in this world, he was. He wondered if his father and mother and eldest brother could see him now. Would they be proud of him as well?

"I feel well rested, Lady Éowyn." Bran sat up, noticing that he was in different surroundings. The walls of stone beneath Helm's Deep were no more. The furs that had covered him were gone. Instead the boy was in the medical ward as he had been when he had first appeared. His confusion was now gone. Bran knew that he was in Rohan again. "Where's Jon?" he asked. Jon had told him that he and the other members of the Fellowship would be going to Isenguard before they joined the other warriors, women, and children in Rohan. How much time had passed since Bran had slept?

"Jon son of Rhaegar has returned to Rohan," Éowyn told him gently. "Aragorn son of Arathorn has returned as well with their friends and my brother." She smiled softly at the mention of Aragorn's name. Suddenly a memory resurfaced in Bran's mind. Meera was hunting in the woods beyond the North. She had come back with fresh killed deer. Bran remembered how he had smiled too when Meera always appeared. _I couldn't protect the one I wanted to protect most. _He eyed Éowyn, knowing that she too loved someone she could not reach. The light reached his eyes as the white lady carried him to the hall. His dark auburn hair became red in the sunlight. Bran heard King Théoden's voice as he carried a mug in his hand.

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead." His words were echoed by the men. Bran watched as the men of Rohan slowly relaxed and forgot the troubles of the ongoing war. His blue eyes were sorrowful. How many of these men would die next in the battle for Middle Earth? Éowyn had carried him to a quiet place away from the loud noises. The boy now sat in a lone chair, observing the scene around him. He saw Éowyn with Aragorn, and a lump grew in his throat. Éowyn reminded him very much of his sister Arya. She too would want to fight with the men. And like Éowyn, Arya was not afraid of death. Although their ages were vastly different, Bran had no doubt that his sister would have been very good friends with Éowyn. As he stared with grim sadness around the hall, Bran felt a tug on his breeches. He looked down and saw a small person looking at him.

"Hello, Master Brandon." Immediately Bran remembered Jon telling him how the hobbits Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were part of the Fellowship of the Ring. They had gone the quest despite their small size and inexperience with the world beyond the Shire, their home. Jon had continued to tell him that Frodo and Sam were going to Mordor to destroy the One Ring. _This is Pippin,_ Bran thought. He had seen the lighter-haired hobbit from afar with his friend Merry as they sang and drank on one of the tables. The men seemed to think them as humorous creatures. Now the hobbit was looking at him in curiosity, noticing that he and Bran were the same height. _It must be a difference for him. Even though he's twice our age, he calls me Master Brandon and calls Jon the same way. I wonder why that is._

"Master Jon told me that you had an adventure too when you were in your world." There was nothing but excitement in Pippin's voice. "Can you tell it to me?" He didn't seem to notice the pain in Bran's eyes as the boy began to explain his adventure when it started. _It's just a story to him, _Bran realized after he told the hobbit about his friends' deaths. _Pippin doesn't realize that it actually happened and that my pain was real, that it's _still _real. _He saw the childish gleam in Pippin's eyes. _Is that what I would have been if I hadn't had my accident? Would I have remained a child rather than being who I am now?_

"You were very brave, Master Brandon," Pippin continued in his exhilarated voice. "Maybe someday you'll be sung in songs and tales!" Suddenly the hobbit noticed Bran's bowed head and the tears that flowed onto the floor. "Don't cry," Pippin murmured awkwardly. "It's okay to cry sometimes." Bran felt thee hobbit's warm hand on his shoulder, but it did nothing to ease his grief. _I could protect the people in this world but no one in my own. _That realization made Bran's heart hurt. _How would I be sung in songs and tales? _His tears continued to flow as his heart continued to hurt as time passed. Bran continued to hear Pippin's voice trying to comfort him. "Don't cry Master Brandon, please." Bran looked up at the curly haired hobbit before him. There seemed to be something else than curiously in his eyes as he stared at the boy before him. Suddenly the hobbit whispered to him.

"I don't know much about sadness and heartache, but I know that you were very brave, even braver than Master Jon. I could never do the things you did. I…would have run away when danger was near." Pippin seemed to be slightly ashamed by his words. "That's what matters, right?" Pippin added timidly. _"It is the times we had together that exist in our hearts, not the time that could have been." _That is what Legolas had told Bran. It was now with Pippin looking at him admiringly that Bran truly realized what Legolas was trying to tell him. The elf was telling him that what happened in the past happened. He should not soil the memories of those who had fallen by thinking of what could have been. "It only matters if you become stronger and never give up hope, right?" Although Pippin's last words had been inaudible, Bran had heard him. The boy nodded, and gave Pippin a watery smile. _I cannot change the past, Jojen. I cannot change that you, Meera, and Hodor died. I now know that I must honor your memories by never giving up hope on the present._

"_Home is behind_

_The world ahead_

_And there are many paths to tread_

_Through shadow_

_To the edge of night_

_And all the stars shall all alight _

_Mist and shadow_

_Cloud and shade_

_All shall fade_

_All shall fade"_

Pippin was not done though. He stood before Bran, and hesitantly, kissed the boy's forehead. "Never fade, Master Brandon. You are my hero."

* * *

Jon watched as Gandalf and Pippin galloped away. They were going to Minas Tirith. Pippin's curiosity of the palantir had caused him to see Minas Tirith burning. Gandalf had come to a conclusion that Sauron and his armies were going to target Minas Tirith next, and so he and Pippin rode at first light to the white city. Jon had observed Bran's sadness at the hobbit's departure, and hadn't asked him what had happened between the two. Aragorn had told him that he had seen the two talking during the victory feast. There was also something about Bran that had changed. Jon had detected an aura of sadness around the boy since he had appeared in Middle Earth. Now Bran seemed at peace and tranquil. _He's accepted the past, _Jon thought as he observed King Théoden and Bran share a long embrace. There were no tears in Bran's eyes as King Théoden told him farewell. _His heart is now whole again. _Bran had been the truth of both their fates. Of their deaths. Bran had nodded when Jon had asked him, _"Do you know what you must do?"_ _Bran had once told King Théoden that he was a man grown at ten years. Now I think I believe him._

Before Gandalf and Pippin had left, the king had decided that Rohan's armies must help defend Minas Tirith against Sauron's armies. Jon and Aragorn had respectfully urged him to make that decision. Now the men of Rohan and the five remaining members of the Fellowship of the Ring were riding to Minas Tirith. Jon had not been surprised when Éowyn had joined them. She may have said that she was going to see the men off, but Jon knew better than to believe her. His mother, Lyanna Stark, and Arya would have said those very same words while hiding a sword in their cloaks. _All three are warriors, _Jon thought. Even though Middle Earth had never seen snow or had gods, the females of both worlds had restricted roles that neither his mother nor cousin would agree with. As the leagues grew farther from Rohan, Jon spied Merry in armor, riding beside King Théoden. He had told Jon and Bran proudly that he was the king's squire. Now as the night dawned and their horses grew weary, King Théoden and Éomer said that it was time to set up camp. Jon sat in silence as the men set fires around him. For once, he needed time alone instead of seeking company from Aragorn or Legolas. He needed time to think and soothe the inner demons inside his heart as Bran had done.

For the sixteen years of his life, Jon had thought he was the son of Eddard Stark, the lord of Winterfell. The man who had thought to be his father hadn't treated him differently than any of his children. Jon had no doubt that he loved him. The very reason why Jon had trained so hard in swordsmanship and was polite to Lady Catelyn Tully was to gain approval from the eldest Stark. He wanted to prove that he was Eddard Stark's son just as his other brothers were. Jon had cared for his cousins deeply. Even though Sansa despised him, he still loved her. Jon still remembered how he had tried to run from the Night's Watch when Eddard Stark had died. He still remembered the anguish and rage as he raced away. Jon would have avenged him. But the old gods had other plans. The supposed bastard son of Eddard Stark would find out what the wildings were up to. The bastard hadn't thought that he would find love. Ygritte's face burned in his mind. Jon's men had betrayed him at the end. He remembered his mother telling him the truth before he had come to Middle Earth. _The truth, _Jon thought bitterly. _Even though my journey is almost done, I still don't know who I am. _The truth had caused Jon to question who he was and what he was. Whose son was he? He thought of the two men who had been his fathers. The sudden thought caused his mind to freeze for a moment. _My fathers...Rheagar Targaryen and Eddard Stark…were both there for me until the very end. I have two fathers, not one. _Jon looked up and saw the stars blinking at him. They looked beautiful in the sky. _I may be a dragon, but I have a wolf's blood._

"Jon, there is someone who wants to meet you in King Théoden's tent." Jon's gaze broke away from the stars and saw Aragorn standing beside him. His dark haired friend looked him in the eyes, but Jon saw that Aragorn was somewhere else, far away, as he had been moments before. Jon stood, but not before Aragorn embraced him. The embrace was strong and raw with emotion. Jon thought that his friend would never let go. "Our crossroads are here before, _mellon_. Our destinies await us." Then suddenly Aragorn let him go and disappeared.

Jon stood in silence. It was almost as if Aragorn was saying goodbye to him. He shook his head. As Aragorn had said, their crossroads were before them. Now they had to meet them. Jon entered the tent.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_Chapter Fifteen_

Jon's only focus was on the person before him. He didn't pay any attention to his surroundings. The person was fairly tall, and wore a brown robe with a cowl covering his face. Jon narrowed his eyes as the figure remained motionless. Who was this person? Aragorn had told him that someone wanted to meet him, but the figure had given no sign of communicating with him. Suddenly a thin hand appeared from the robes and removed the cowl. _An elf, _Jon realized, recognizing the pointed ears and slim build of Legolas' race. Long brown hair reached to the elf's shoulders, and wise eyes stared in Jon's grey eyes. He didn't know how, but Jon knew that this elf was far older than Legolas. His eyes were too dark, with what Jon didn't know. The name of the elf came to Jon suddenly, almost shocking him. Aragorn had told him about his foster father Elrond in the past and of their history. Jon never thought he would meet the reverend elf in person.

"What can I do for you, Lord Elrond?"

"Aragorn and the others are going to the mountains to recall the Dead Men of Dunharrow to stop further enemies from coming." Lord Elrond's grim eyes locked on Jon's own. "The armies of Rohan and Minas Tirith are going to be no match for Sauron's. As a former commander, you know this." Jon nodded. He had seen the meager army of Rohan. They were too few to match the army that Sauron had created. Many had fallen in the battle not two days past, and Jon knew that this army was all King Théoden had. Jon wondered if the army of Minas Tirith was as small as this. In another world, an army smaller than this had stopped the wildling from advancing the Wall. Jon didn't think that Middle Earth would be as fortunate. "They need all the help they can get, including from the dead," Lord Elrond continued. Something in his gaze told Jon something he didn't want to hear.

"I'm not going with them." The words were a statement, not a question.

"No, you are not." Lord Elrond shook his head. As Jon's shock and anger grew, the elf explained. "You are meant to lead, Jon Snow. It's in your blood. Lead the warriors of Rohan and Minas Tirith as you will have to do." Jon knew better than to question orders. He held his tongue, thinking of Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. Jon thought of Aragorn's pained expression as they had embraced. _Was that the last goodbye?_ "Your journey is coming to an end," Lord Elrond added softly. "You have found yourself, found who you truly are." Lord Elrond seemed to understand the pain pulsing through Jon's heart. "You will meet your friends one more time before you depart from this world." The aged elf bowed his head to Jon. In respect, Jon realized in amazement. "Farewell, _Callo en Dae Heleg_. May you succeed in the other world also." Then he disappeared into the shadows, leaving Jon to his thoughts.

Jon's friends had departed when he had exited the tent. He heard the shouts of the men calling for them to come back. _They won't come back, _Jon thought while closing his eyes. _They won't come back until their task is done. _He fingered his sword. _My place is here. _Slowly Jon advanced to King Théoden.

"He leaves because he must," King Théoden was telling his men.

"Too few have come. We cannot defeat the armies of Mordor," the warrior was telling him. Jon could hear fear in his voice.

"No," the king told his wayward warrior. "We cannot. But we will meet them in battle nonetheless." Jon saw the features of the men become ravaged with fear. They were uncertain and wary. _They have a right to be, _Jon thought. _We're fighting the strongest enemy that has ever come. _The warrior who had spoken to King Théoden stared intently at Jon for a moment. Then recognition and later reverence echoed on his face as Jon stood next to his king.

"Lord Jon." The warriors bowed to him, so low their noses almost reached the forest floor. Jon watched them in amazement. He had never been bowed to before. That privilege was for kings and lords. Jon saw King Théoden's eyes wander to him in amusement. What had he done to deserve an honor like this? Jon didn't know. Gradually, one of the men started to speak.

"You are like the flame that never dies, Lord Jon." The young man's brown eyes were fevered with hope. "You were with us from the very beginning and never gave up hope even when we thought that Lord Aragorn was lost. There was a time when we didn't trust you because you were an outsider and wore black, the color of death. But then you and your brother saved the children and the women from the orcs and the wargs. The fire that burned from your sword saved many lives. You saved my life that day, Lord Jon." Then suddenly the young man stood as the others were still. "I believe in you. I see it in your eyes that you believe we can win this war. Our fear melts because you're here, standing with us, even though this is not your home. We _all _believe in you. This is why we're going. The courage that you have to stay and fight is a courage that we all share when you're with us. We will follow you wherever you go."

As the intensity died from the young man's voice, his blazing brown eyes met Jon's never wavered. Jon saw the same intensity in all men where there was previously fear and dread. _Simply because I am here,_ the young leader thought. He thought of his own men on the Wall. They hadn't believed in him. Not in this way. _He will rise a commander…_The true meaning of that part of the prophecy rang in Jon's head. It had meant that in Middle Earth, men would believe in him, making them their leader. Lord Elrond had said that to lead was in his blood. A leader didn't only mean telling orders and leading a battle; it also meant people _believing _in him. The men of the Night's Watch hadn't believed in Jon, so they had betrayed him. _"The fundamentals of leadership is for your men to believe in you," _one of his father's had told him once. It was only now that Jon understood. As he stood beside King Théoden and Éomer with their swords raised, Jon knew that he wouldn't balk because he had his men behind him.

Jon remembered how the battle had ended. More than a thousand dead men had helped the living the drive their enemies away. Smoke and blood were scattered among the fields, and Jon saw the king of the dead men approach Aragorn. Then their ghostly figures had disappeared with a sigh of release. Aragorn had noticed his grey-eyed friend as he stood slightly away from him. Jon still remembered the wide smile that had appeared on his face. Gimli had demanded where he had been. _"Learning a lesson." _Jon had calmly replied. Their brief reunion abruptly ended as the dead and the injured grew. A lump of grief lodged in Jon's throat when he had found King Théoden's body beside Éowyn's, who had been hurriedly rushed to the healers of Minas Tirith. Many more had died. Countless more, including the young man who had followed Jon until the very end. Pippin and Merry had been found, something that Jon was grateful for on such a sad day. Now the young leader was beside Aragorn and the healed members of the Fellowship as well as Éomer, the new king of Rohan, as Gandalf paced around the room. He had wanted to call them in for a meeting. They were waiting in silence.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight. The darkness is deepening."

"If Sauron had the Ring we would know it," Aragorn advised.

"It's only a matter of time." Jon was stunned by Gandalf's pessimistic tone. It was he who had held onto hope for so long. Now that hope was dying. "He suffered a defeat, yes…but beyond the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping."

"Let him stay there." Gandalf and Jon stared at Gimli. "Let him rot!" The dwarf continued. "Why should we care?"

"Because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." There was a heavy silence. "I've sent him to his death." Gandalf's voice was so remorseful that Jon felt his heart painfully restrict with pity for the wizard. He didn't know what to say, as if was Gandalf who had wanted Frodo to go on the quest to destroy the One Ring.

It was he who broke the morose silence. "No," Jon said. The others looked at him. Determination was in his eyes. "There's still hope for Frodo. He needs time, and safe passage through the plains of Gorgorth." Gimli gave Jon a questioning glace, but he and the others ignored him. We can give him that."

"How?" Gimli asked.

"Draw out Sauron's armies." Jon had the entire attention of the group now. "Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

"A diversion," Legolas said. Jon nodded. As the debate continued, Jon continued to stand his ground. Eventually, his plan was approved. Jon saw Aragorn nod in approval. The men who had survived the battle were now marching to a new one. Jon could see no fear in their eyes. Aragorn's words whispered in his mind. _"As long as there is life, there is hope. You gave them that, Jon son of Rheagar."_A long cloak now flowed behind Jon's dark haired friend. The pendant that Arwen gave him before the quest began hung around his neck. Jon wondered if this was the last time he would ever see his friends, including the hobbits who were marching with the much larger men. Gandalf had told him that in order to go back to his world alive, Jon would have to die. He wondered if Aragorn knew his fate. Gimli and Legolas were beside the two men, and Jon felt his thoughts melt away. As the Black Gate opened, Aragorn looked at Jon. It seemed that his eyes could see every part of Jon's soul.

"For Frodo," Jon and Aragorn whispered. Then two lead the attack.

* * *

Bran was safe in the capital of Rohan. However, the boy of ten years wouldn't be safe for long. He would die. For some reason his inevitable death no longer frightened him. He was ready. Again, Bran heard Jon's voice in his mind. _Yes, _Bran thought,_ I am ready for what I must do. _The boy had felt Frodo's mind from afar, numb with cold emptiness. The hobbit's body might have been hole, but inside, he was dead. Bran could hear Sauron's voice in Frodo's mind. It haunted him moments after he had broken his connection with Frodo. It was a voice he would never want to face again. Bram remembered too well how numbness felt like. It had happened after he had failed to protect those most precious to him. And so the boy sang to the empty and exhausted hobbit. He sang him the song that Pippin had sung to him when his own heart was hollow and drained with despair. Although Bran could not see Frodo, he felt the hobbit's heart lessen with pain and his mind becoming less dark with emptiness. The hobbit had escaped from the Ring's clutches and had entered Mount Doom when Bran had broken his connection with the brave hobbit.

Now Bran flew in the wind, seeing from the eagle's sharp eyes. Bran took control of the eagle as he scratched and killed his enemies from below. At the corner of his eye, Bran saw the small forms of Pippin and Merry. He saw the white figure of Gandalf fighting with his staff, and saw Jon fighting with his sword, never far behind. The friends Legolas and Gimli were fighting side by side. Suddenly as Bran grasped an orc in the eagle's claws, he felt the sharp sting of the crude sword against his neck. The eagle screamed in pain, although Bran wasn't certain if the eagle was screaming or if it was him. He flew away as blood coated his neck, and immediately the connection with the eagle was gone. Bran laboriously opened his eyes. His vision was fading fast. His hand touched his neck, and it came away dark with blood. Blood was still flowing from the wound as Bran's body became transparent. _The eagle will survive, but I…will not. _A sudden serenity overtook him as he thought of his adventures. Memories flashed before his eyes as blood pooled onto the floor. _My last regret is that…I couldn't say…goodbye. Especially to you, Frodo, because…you are my…hero. _Brandon Stark wasn't afraid when he closed his eyes for the final time and as his body disappeared.

* * *

Jon fought as the battle raged around him. Beside him, Aragorn fought as fierce. Jon felt something within him wither when a particular eagle had flown away. His feathers clotted the blood that escaped from his wound, and for a moment, their eyes met. Blue eyes met grey. Then the eyes were gone. _Bran…_ Jon felt his hands clench the hilt of the sword as his knuckles turned white. Bran was dead. He had died just then. Against his will, Jon remembered the other time he had witnessed Bran's death. In Galadriel's mirror, Bran had fought his enemies as his companions lied dead. _His death now is no less valiant._ Jon remained frozen to the world until he heard a desperate voice calling. The young man turned and looked to see Legolas desperately trying to reach Aragorn, who was fighting a giant orc. Aragorn's name was screamed out the elf's agonized tone. Despite his efforts, Legolas could not reach his friend._ "For sixty years I've known Aragorn, and I've never told him about my mother or brother." _ Legolas' voice echoed in Jon's mind. He was taken back to the time when the Fellowship had thought Aragorn dead, and when Legolas had told him the heartbreaking story of how his mother and older brother had died. _"I've only known you for three weeks, Jon son of Rheagar. Why is it, I wonder, that I am telling you a story no one has heard before."_ Jon recalled the trust in Legolas' voice when he spoke. _"It's because I trust you." _As Jon rushed forward to Aragorn's aid, he saw his friend vainly attempt to wound the giant orc that was roaring above him. _He will die, _Jon thought as the orc raised his sword above his ugly head. _Aragorn will die unless… _Aragorn son of Arathorn did not die that day.

Jon felt the sword pierce through his body. For a moment, he didn't feel the agony as the sword pushed through skin, bone, muscles, and organs. His only concern was for Aragorn, who he had protected by jumping in front of him. Jon had taken the blow that would have severed Aragorn's head. Now as the moments passed, Jon felt the pain. Fires erupted throughout his entire body, and he tried to breathe as the sword continued to push through. A soundless scream echoed in Jon's head as the pain went deeper and deeper in his body. He tried to breathe, managing only to take gasps of breaths as the giant head of the orc wielded his second sword, this time aimed at his head. Jon felt the world spinning around him as his life's blood flowed like a river onto the ground. For a moment his men's words echoed in his head as he prepared to meet his second end.

Suddenly the ground faltered underneath him, but instead of falling onto the hard ground, Jon felt himself fall into warm and strong arms. He felt a hand touch his pallor face, and heard voices. Then a scream. His vision came into focus again as the One Ring was being destroyed. He heard the scream again as his blood continued to flow. The sword that had priced him was gone now somehow. Jon's black cloak was coated with blood, and his eyes struggled to focus as the light in his eyes continued to dim. Through half-slit eyes, he saw the crying form of Aragorn before him. _Crying? _Tears were now mixing with blood on Jon's cloak. Suddenly the dying young man remembered the screams. _My name…he was calling my name._ Jon remembered too how someone had screamed his name in fear of his deathin another world. _Ygritte...my love…_ Jon felt Aragorn's hands on his face again. The voice of his friend was raspy as he again held a dying friend. "You were very brave to take my place." Aragorn held Jon's bloody hand. "You make me proud to know you as a brother."

"Brother…?" Jon's voice was barely audible as his strength weakened. At the corner of his eye, he saw Gimli and Legolas crouching down beside them, their heads bowed and their faces wet. Aragorn's blue eyes met his grey eyes, and Jon felt another stab of agony as Aragorn touched his head with his own.

"Yes, Jon. You have bravery and strength I have only seen few possess. You are a dragon and wolf, burning red with flame and cold with steel in your father would be very proud of you." Aragorn's voice choked as Jon felt blood seep out of his mouth. Those were the same words his mother had told him when Jon had first arrived in Middle Earth. Despite his life fading, Jon managed to smile. _My fathers would be very proud of me._

"I was…very proud to serve you…my brother…" It was hard to talk now. It took all the strength that Jon had to say those words. _I must say them before I return. _"My captain…" His grey stared into Aragorn's, never leaving him. Jon hoped that Aragorn could hear the pride in his voice. "My king…" As Aragorn clutched him, sobbing into his neck, Jon faintly heard Legolas gently singing.

_"__When the cold of winter comes  
Starless night will cover day  
In the veiling of the sun  
We will walk in bitter rain  
But in dreams  
I can hear your name  
And in dreams  
We will meet again  
When the seas and mountains fall  
And we come to end of days  
In the dark I hear a call  
Calling me there  
I will go there  
And back again."_

That was the last Jon Snow heard as he died and disappeared from Middle Earth.


	17. Epilogue

_Epilogue _

Jon Snow was falling. He felt the wind caress his face. It felt so soft and smooth, like the touch of a mother. _Where am I? _When Jon opened his eyes, he could only see white around him. It almost hurt his eyes, causing him to flinch from the bright light. Strangely, his body felt light as a feather. He didn't feel any pain. Jon groped at the wound that had killed him in Middle Earth, realizing that the gaping and bleeding hole was gone. He tried to move, but failed as stiffness impaled his body. Jon was still after a moment of struggle. It seemed that he was covered in a blanket of snow. He could feel ice in his dark hair, and opened his grey eyes. A land of ice and snow met his eyes as snow continued to fall. _I'm back_, Jon thought suddenly. _I'm…in Westeros now. _He remembered of how Galadriel had uttered the prophecy, almost akin to a song. Now it seemed that the song was done. The prophecy had been completed. Jon closed his eyes and remembered the last words Aragorn had told him. _"You make me proud to know you as a brother. You have bravery and strength I have only seen few possess.__You are a dragon and wolf, burning red with flame and cold with steel in your heart.__"_ He remembered how he had discovered the true meaning of leadership and of family. _I know who I am now._ "Callo en Dae Heleg, Hero of Ice's Shadow," Jon whispered._"I have not met a man like you, Jon son of Rheagar. You are honest, honorable, and brave, something elves do not see in the world of men." _He remembered the friends that he had made in a world away, and of how they had wept at his death. _I shall never forget them. _Jon opened his eyes again, noticing that a dark shape was coming towards him. He didn't realize what it was until he heard it call to him.

_"Snow, Snow!"_ The crow that had followed him until the end was pecking at his face. Jon couldn't help but smile at the annoying crow. Gandalf's words echoed in his mind. Jon struggled to stand. Jon groped for something, anything, and found snow in his hands. Suddenly, Ghost's eyes appeared before him. Red eyes met grey, and Jon found himself slipping. _I'm glad he's safe, _Jon thought as he continued falling to reach the snow. He was too weak. Suddenly, he fingered Ghost's coat and held on. He was able to stand up now. Mormont's crow was in the sky, shouting his name. _I'm not finished. _Jon managed to take a step. He took another, and found himself shakily walking to his men. To his brothers, the men of the Night's Watch. _I am the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. I was raised by a man who treated me like his own and made me who I am. I have another father as well, the one who died for what he believed in, and his courage, resilience, and loyalty run in my veins. My fathers strength grows within me each moment. I have the blood of the dragon and the blood of the First Men. I am a man of the Night's Watch. I will always be._

Jon Snow looked up at the cold night sky and thought of those he had left behind. _I will never forget you, my friends._

* * *

Bran Stark opened his eyes. He saw the trees above him, and the sun shining brightly. The birds were in the sky. The boy had never felt so peaceful before. A brief memory was all that remained of his death in Middle Earth. He remembered of how _broken _he had been when he had first appeared into that world. Jon had helped him to find his way. It was thanks to him that Bran was able to accept himself as he was. Thanks to Pippin, Bran was able to see beyond his mistakes and realize there was still hope. Even though his legs were dead as the snow was, Bran felt different somehow. He didn't feel useless. He felt…_whole_. Bran looked down and saw the shallow graves of Jojen and Meera, but somehow the sadness and grief didn't freeze him. A strength was growing inside him, although the boy didn't know it yet. _I am Brandon Stark, House of Stark, a green seer, a skinchanger, and a telepath. I might be a cripple. I might have lost my friends, but I have not lost my strength. _Bran looked and saw Jojen's grave from afar, and pondered sadly. _He tried to tell me that I had strength that I didn't know I possessed. Now I know, but it's too late. _Legolas' words whispered in his ears. _"__It is the times we had together that exist in our hearts, not the time that could have been." _The boy nodded, as if the elf was still beside him and not a world away. Jon's words echoed in his mind too.

_"Do you know what you must do?" _

_Yes,_ Bran thought, _I do know what I must do. I am ready for whatever comes my way. _

Bran Stark looked up at the cold night sky and thought of those he had left behind. He thought of Pippin, who he had formed a fast friendship with, Legolas, who was always there to listen, and thought of King Théoden, who had loved Bran simply as he was. The boy even thought of Frodo, who had more courage than anyone would possess. _I will never forget you, my friends. _Bran thought of the song that Pippin had sung to him. That was the same song he had whispered to Frodo. Even now, the beautiful words echoed in his mind. Finally, Bran started to sing.

_"Home is behind_

_The world ahead_

_And there are many paths to tread..."_

* * *

Both men were ready for whatever came.


End file.
